Named by Submission
by Tasogare Ookami Konyo
Summary: It's been six months since Tsukasa logged out of The World. An abandoned boy with greenish-black hair and eyes bloodlust-tainted awakens from a coma with no memories. He is haunted by Morganna's voice: a soft lull willing him to sleep and never awaken...
1. Prologue: A Lifeless Awakening

**A/N**: Oh my God! A piece of fanfiction. How peculiarly common...heh. I hope you enjoy my first work... Just pretend the events that awoke Sora disappear, okay? It's fanfiction. Deal with it. 

Enjoy the show.

**Disclaimer**: Everything belongs to Bandai...and those other people.

^*^

**Prologue: A Lifeless Awakening**

_A hundred days have made me older  
Since the last time that I saw your pretty face  
A thousand lies have made me colder  
And I don't think I can look at this the same  
All the miles that separate  
Disappear now when I'm dreamin' of your face  
_**Here Without You** - Three Doors Down

^*^

In 2009, among the first appearances of the monstrosity named Skeith occurred, having been called in order to initiate the elimination of three players and the mystical little girl named Aura. The three players were: Tsukasa, a Wavemaster with a mystery as well as an identity complex; Mimiru, a tough Heavy Blade; and Subaru, a calm and gentle Heavy Axewoman lacking the willingness to fight. They prepared for whatever would come, grim expressions set in stone. 

Betraying the orders Morganna gave him, a player-killing Twin Blade gated in and offered to provide a distraction to allow those three players and Aura to make a quick escape...with a single request:

_"Tsukasa, let's be friends, okay?"_

Aura, Tsukasa, Mimiru, and Subaru had gated out immediately with silent regards. The green-haired assassin taunted the voice--an optimistic approach to a sadistic ending. Irritated, Morganna summoned the first Phase mentioned in Emma Wietland's Epitaph of the Twilight: the death-dealer, Skeith, who had only one purpose in such a point in time...kill any attempt at martyrdom that stood in her way. With no free will and no boundaries, the PK was Data Drained.

In the real world, a 4th-grade boy collapsed.

Bold, red letters flicker faintly on a fading screen; the boy's visor had flown off his eyes almost of its own free will, clattering to a halt mere inches away from the boy's hand.

^*^

_It had been months since that day; I had been sitting patiently by a hospital bed, maintaining a strong hope that she would awaken any second, that their mission was a success. The girl who would soon be my foster daughter--her purple eyes shot open and she had basically flown out of bed, huffing and puffing as if she'd run a mile. And with that, she had whispered one word, a note of terror in her voice: "Sora." I knew that player; BT tended to complain to me about him. Annako was Tsukasa's name. _

_ Annako later told me that she thought--no, she _knew_ Sora was in trouble. I hadn't cared much for the boy back then; it wasn't a great concern for me. _

_ I don't know why I waited after that, why I tried to. I didn't go _looking_ for Sora; I didn't try to hunt him down as I had with Annako. But I knew it would come back to haunt me... _

_ I just can't ignore things like that...it's never been in my best interests._

^*^

"W...what day is it?"

His head felt as if it was made of lead; with great effort, a weight-ridden eyelid cranked itself open, willing not to slide back over his eyes even though he saw spots like fireflies floating in his vision. _Everything hurts so damn much..._ Even speaking was a great effort for the boy; his throat felt thick and coated with emotion. That seemed foreign to him. New. Pain...pain, the lump in his throat... It was uncomfortable.

It all felt like he was experiencing them for the first time, like a newborn with no knowledge of the world. For some reason, the lack of "knowledge" displeased him. Why?

"Doctor! Doctor, HE'S AWAKE!" One eye sleepily shifted to the panicked, curly-haired nurse who had abandoned her magazine and spilt her coffee in her haste to alert this...doctor. Since when had he needed a doctor? "The one who came six months ago! Mitsurugi Hikaru!"

_Is that my name?_


	2. Waiting for Lonesome Memories

**A/N**: Yes, yes; without waiting for reviews I already begin another chapter. It'll be BIGGER. LONGER. UNCUT. Like the South Park movie. Heh.

Enjoy the show!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Project .hack. If I did, then The World would already be a massive multiplayer online RPG with the visor thingies, and I'd be the happiest Heavy Blade system administrator alive... Alas, it is not so.

^*^

**Chapter 1: Waiting for Lonesome Memories**

_You tell me nothing's wrong_  
_Seems like I've been gone oh-so-long_  
_Nothing seems to have changed_  
_Yet, the familiar things seem all so strange_  
**I'm OK, You're OK** - Mxpx

^*^

Light and splotches of color--similar to the spots that lined one's vision after taking a photograph--continued to explode in Hikaru's eyes; his sore eyes swam forcedly around the small hospital room, somberly absorbing his surroundings. His brain pounded as if it was being drilled into and squashed by the recesses of his skull. White walls...old painting...chair...desk...jar...papers. A tube attached to a mask--a wire sprouting out of the inside of the face mask, sliding down his throat and gently spilling some tasteless food article into his throat. Spilt coffee interrupted the white-and-gray ensemble the room had erected.

_Spilt coffee?_

Suddenly, the memories of a mere few seconds ago flooded Hikaru's mind. He recalled hoarsely inquiring about the date, managing to squeeze the words past an unused throat. _Awake..._ Despite the lack of acquaintance with his own _name_, Mitsurugi Hikaru had enough "common" sense to know that what he was feeling was pretty damn close to a hangover. He made a mental note to never become an alcoholic.

_When did I go to sleep?_

The sun began to peek through the clean linen curtains; with a chivalrous attempt to shield his sensitive eyes from any more light, Hikaru rolled over and off the bed with a dull thud. For a moment, his sides went numb--then his body flashed with pain from the impact. _Well, that was certainly delayed,_ Hikaru thought dully, lying still for a few moments to regroup himself. The feeding tube had slipped off and out.

It was then the doctor burst in the door; its hinges squealed in protest. _Not well oiled_, the diplomatic voice in Hikaru's head spoke. _Why do I notice all the small things...?_ It was then his ears stung with the collision of the door against the wall and the screech of its latches. A whimpering sound manifested in his closed throat, and he placed one hand on the side of the bed, attempting to use it as a sort of cane to hoist himself upward. Still a very brave thing to do, yet he found that his knees threatened to buckle beneath them if he wasn't careful. Divided use of arm strength and holding onto the bed would do the trick--

"Hikaru! Please, don't try to stand up yet!" An old man's voice hovered warily above his position on the floor. A pruned arm slings itself around Hikaru's waist, gently lifting the boy up like a rag doll. 

He was obviously displeased by this manner of treatment. He couldn't bring himself to say anything...felt too _weak_. The feeling was instantly despised, and Hikaru wrenched his lanky arms out of the man's grasp. "I--"

Hikaru opened his mouth slightly, but no sound came out except for an odd gurgle. He found himself gagging over something viscous and sticky; phlegm that had neatly coated his esophagus and vocal cords splattered out onto the bed sheets, a sickly mixture of chartreuse and pearl along with a bit of blood. 

With another audacious attempt to swallow and a bit more hacking, he was surprised to find his throat was mind-numbingly parched.

"I'll get him some water," the nurse suddenly said, bounding out of the room in her tight white miniskirt and allowing the bright orange-red curls to bounce along behind her. For a fleeting moment, Hikaru was grateful. That moment passed as the doctor knelt before him, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, then his neck... 

"You're warm," Doctor Yadate murmured in his gruff, low tone--perhaps a phrase recited more to himself then the child before him. "Excessively dehydrated; damn Shrapner, _abandoning_ a patient! Even a comatose one!" Yadate swore to himself under his breath, ensuring that Hikaru heard none of his vehement accusations. _I already know them all_. Hikaru's gaze became rather heavy-lidded and narrow, as if unimpressed by the doctor. "Where's that wretched nurse? Gods, you need a shower too or something; I'd almost forgotten you were here...goodness me..."

Right on cue, the bright-haired nurse stalked in, thrusting a tall glass of water into Hikaru's hands. "Drink up, sweetie, drink up."

Hikaru could only happily oblige, splashing water lightly onto his grimly-set lips and proceeding to pour the rest of it into his mouth. The cool liquid obliterated the arid sensation in his mouth, and it wasn't until the very last drop had been absorbed had Hikaru allowed himself to breathe heavily.

"Oh my goodness, he's--...ahem. Hello, Mitsurugi Hikaru. Do you know where you are?" 

Hikaru swallowed a few more times experimentally. There was a pause, and with a bit of a struggle he managed to utter: "...Y-yes..." The doctor said nothing; the silence that ascended prompted Hikaru to prove what he knew. "...A hospital." Yet before the doctor could acknowledge this with praise, the boy continued, eyes slit in dislike. "..._Why_ am I in the hospital?"

Only silence followed.

"...Answer me..."

"...Mr. Mitsurugi, you've been...comatose. Bed-ridden," the doctor added as an afterthought, as if under the delusion a boy older then 7 didn't know what the word meant, "for the...for the past six months." Hikaru seemed not to have heard until 3 seconds after, when his wine-colored eyes widened. Surprise didn't seem to fit the monotonous, floppy-haired boy very well; his face was etched in stone, a never-ending expression of cynicism. "Your brain wave activity seemed...well...almost stasis. B-but...you were alive, and we've kept you that way after your family brought you here."

_Family? Who's..._ "Who..._where_," he corrected himself, "is my family?"

Doctor Yadate did not reply; his eyes closed as if tired and in pain, and his gnarled hand swallowed Hikaru's smaller and scarred palm. Then, Yadate stood, shaking his head. Unfortunately, Hikaru could sense he wasn't about to get an answer. "They came here six months ago soon after an ambulance took you to this room. They said you had collapsed playing a video game--the MMORPG called The World."

_The World!_

Images flashed in his mind, attempting to recollect themselves beneath a door that sealed himself off from his memories. A white-haired, violet-eyed boy in tan and gray robes; a spacious vortex of swirling gray and hallucinatory-type colors...daggers, or blades attached to his forearms and wrists... A woman in teal and light blue with gold trimmings, with emerald-green eyes... she was pretty--beautiful, even... But she seemed to be...mocking him...

"And I had killed her," Hikaru said suddenly, lost in reverie.

The old man jolted to attention. "What did you say?" he asked, adjusting his wire-frame glasses that seemed to be able to snap in two any second then.

"N-nothing...I..." Hikaru pressed his clammy palms to his forehead, rushing aside thinned strands of dark green. "Doc, I don't know how to tell you this..." His cold, unforgiving eyes slid shut, squinting horribly as if to try and force a memory. A pause. "...Who the hell _am_ I?" 

The doctor's eyes bulged out of their sockets in mutinous trepidation. In a very similar fashion to the way the nurse had panicked--knocking over the helpless mug of coffee in her alarm--Doctor Yadate stumbled backwards, hitting his tailbone on the desk he had been using as a surface for his medical scribbles. 

"What...?"

"You...you mean you don't know, Hikaru?" Yadate said softly, as opposed to the booming hysterics Hikaru expected him to belt out with his reaction. 

"I know my name at least, thanks to that nurse..." the boy mumbled, fixing his gaze on the floor. "But other then that, all I'm drawing up is a blank...so...I'd like to see my...family, please..."

The doctor hesitated for a moment. 

"...You can see them in a few days," he said calmly. His astonishment had died down; the only thing left in its wake were his ragged, forced breaths and quivering hands lined with jutting veins. "In the meantime, we will," with a heavy heart, he paused and then continued, "get some...paperwork ready." Quickly, Yadate opened a drawer and fished around in it for a while; finding nothing of interest there, he turned. "There's a television--" he pointed to it "--and the remote is on the stand next to you. You might have to stay for a bit, but that's no problem--" Doctor Yadate strode out of the room hastily, leaving no room for protest.

_...A few days..._ Hikaru mulled over the subject for a while. Slowly, he slid off the hospital bed. Placing one hand on the linen comforter, far away from the olive-shaded blot on the sheets, the boy limped towards the massive side window. He placed one hand on the curtains, mind blank and blood-red eyes void; he cringed at the slight light showering into the slit the two curtains created. 

Yet bravely, he frowned and yanked them open. A flash--surprisingly, the sun was easy to adjust to, even after it caused his eyes to water after being exposed to the darkness painted on the back of his eyelids for so long.

The sky was clear. Not a single cloud for perhaps many, many kilometers...

Sky. _Sora._

An explosion of some sort happened in his brain, and for the time being, all went black.


	3. Not Really There

**A/N**: Reviews! I feel special. Thanks very much for your commentary!_  
_Doctor Yadate is not going to be a main character. He just has a name 'cause all the masculine personal pronouns were starting to bug me.

Enjoy the show. (Yes, a trademark phrase. Don't hurt me!)

**Disclaimer**: .hack belongs to those dudes who can draw better then I can.

^*^

**Chapter 2: Not Really There**

_You told me that you want to die  
I said I've been there myself more than a few times  
And I go back every once in a while  
You called me lucky; you...you called me lucky.  
_**Trouble Breathing** - Alkaline Trio

^*^

It had only been a few moments until Hikaru's eyes opened begrudgingly much as they had done earlier; he had fallen adjacent to the bed, and when the nurse poked her head in, she merely saw him sending a frigid glare towards the window. Assuming nothing had happened, she resumed her walk to the hospital cafeteria. She could've sworn she had heard a thud. Must've been her imagination, that... He listened as her high heels moseyed down the hall. 

Hikaru Mitsurugi propped his weight against the bed and continued to examine Tokyo, complex and bustling; people shoving their ways across the streets, paving roads for themselves. His keen eyes could spot many things--an old man picking up a silver coin from the road, a little girl with the brightest hair leaving a card shop. 

Even though the windows were nearly soundproof, it was annoying. Supremely annoying, and noisy. He could just...tell. _What a bunch of simpletons..._

Smog didn't seem to get any higher then the floor he was on; quickly, he noted that he was at least sixteen stories from the ground. It didn't blemish the sky. Then and there, he recalled his last coherent thought before he had another episode. _Sora...!_

**Sora is your name.**

A spasm rippled violently throughout his pre-adolescent body, so quick he couldn't feel it yet so turbulent he felt the stiffening aftereffects. His vision flickered with static streamlines for a moment; a wave of black and white specks you may see if a television channel is malfunctioning.

It was after he had regained his composure; the doctor walked in, a file in his hand. "Hello, Hikaru; how are you feeling? You really shouldn't try to get up so soon. Get back into bed, Mr. Mitsurugi--now, if you will."

"My name--..." The boy stumbled towards the white desk, the soft glow of the thin lamp glimmering on a file, reading: _Name, Hikaru Mitsurugi. Age, 10. _The quick convulsion from seconds ago returned and numbed his body, leaving him with an intangible control over his motions. His hands fumbled blindly around the desk. **You are...** "I am..." he said slowly, fingers twitching and curling around a ballpoint pen.

"Hikaru-kun? Are you alright!? 'I am...' You are what? You're--"

"**_SORA!!!_**"

A horrible, strangled cry escaped from his throat--a terrifying jumble between a scream and a vicious yell. The ballpoint pen jolted from his hand, whizzing perhaps a centimeter or less past the side of Doctor Yadate's egg-shaped head, and with a loud thud imbedded itself in the wall.

The boy--no, _Sora's_ eyes flashed a bloodier red then ever; he breathed heavily, staggeringly, as if his heart threatened to leap out of his chest any moment. Yadate's eyes widened, yet his pupils shrunk to a miniscule size; his flimsy glasses slid off his nose and clattered to the ground.

Doctor Yadate turned and fled from the room, leaving the tormented boy to his thoughts. He scampered after the familiar bouncy-haired nurse, his elderly muscles not taking him at a very rapid pace.

"Nurse--_nurse_! Get that man, the one who said he wished to make contact with...with anyone that had been in...a similar state as his daughter! _Get me the father of Annako Sakuma_!" The nurse turned the corner with a swift nod, acknowledging the request. Mutedly, he continued: "...And whatever you do, call Hikaru Mitsurugi..._Sora_. I-I'm warning you..." Her sparkling cerulean eyes took this into account with a hint of terror, apparently shaken by whatever had driven the doctor to the brink of hysterics. And she began to perform the task that was appointed to her, disappearing behind a corridor.

Sora could only sink to his knees, furiously brushing aside the moistness in his eyes.

**The doctor lied to you about your real name...**

**My child...**

_When will I see my...my family? I want to see them. NOW..._

**...my child...**

_...Answer me, damn you!!!_

**...You will soon understand...**

**I _am_ your family...**

**And the only bit of it you've got...**

^*^

47-year-old Ryo Sakuma sat at a desk, scribbling notes down on a sheet of scrap paper. His icy gray eyes scanned the paper, and seemingly pleased with the progress it had made, continued to write furiously. A little ways behind him, a brown-haired girl with amethyst eyes played The World, furiously tapping the controller and occasionally mouthing something or repeating a Wavemaster spell under her breath. Apparently satisfied with the fruits of his work, Ryo tucked the paper away in a small pile on the other corner of the desk.

"Annako, could you tell Mimiru I beta-read her assign--" 

Before he could finish his sentence, his cell phone began vibrating on the table, rhythmically thudding against the wood. "Say something, papa?" Annako asked distractedly, busily tapping the controller. Ryo shook his head and picked up the phone, pressing a bright green button with a small picture of a telephone. The author 

"Hello; Ryo Sakuma speaking. May I ask whom is calling?" he said nonchalantly, standing up and peering over Annako's shoulder into the liquid screen. At the moment, the character Tsukasa was helping Mimiru-chan beat down a monster. "Hm?" The man nodded in affirmation, albeit the woman on the other end couldn't see it. "...Yes, I do remember requesting that six months ago..." A pause. "A boy, eh?"

"Yes, Mr. Sakuma." the feminine voice responded. "His name: Mitsurugi Hikaru... The boy's caretaker, Doctor Yadate, however, said he vehemently claimed his name was Sora."

"_Sora_!?" The portable phone nearly fell to the ground--he ended up juggling it in his hands for a while before coughing and pressing it to his ear. "I-I'm sorry. Right. I'll be right there." The voice faded. Ryo turned around, tapping his daughter on the shoulder. Annako was too enraptured in the game to respond. So, he merely turned off the computer.

"Hey! I was playing that!" Annako bristled, whirling around in her chair and folding her arms on her lap. "What is it?" she asked with a small grin.

"We're going to the hospital. We're going to visit a boy--ah, hell, you know him. Sora. Sora, from six months ago."

Annako paused; her eyelid fluttered and she shot up from her seat. 

^*^

**A/N**: The plot is moving along rather slowly, isn't it? Oh well. I'll pick up the pace in later chapters, but for now... Anyway; I'm quite positive BT will show up sooner or later. She's going to be an integral part here. 


	4. Family Obligations

**A/N**: Morganna is a nice, friendly person. And yes, she is represented by the bold text that makes people unhappy...uh...I'm going to move the plot right now! Huzzah! ...I think Tsukasa's name is An. At least, that's what everyone is writing. Uh...whatever. _ I wonder if there's going to be a Tsukasa pairing. Probably not. Nonetheless, for your added viewing enjoyment, I'm going to make a small list here for real life names. 

If I write fanfiction concerning the SIGN characters, I can and will always use the same names.

Tsukasa: Annako Sakuma  
Mimiru: Yuuko Matsuda  
Bear: Ryo Sakuma  
Sora: Hikaru Mitsurugi  
BT: Midori Kawaguchi  
Krim: Tatsuya Minamoto_  
_Subaru: Ryoko Fujitaka

Enjoy the show!

**Disclaimer**: Konyo does not own .hack.

^*^

**Chapter 3: Family Obligations**

_F__ind out what it is  
Find out what it isn't  
Find out you can't leave your prison  
Wake up from your nap  
Feel my reality slap  
_**The Disappointment **- Toxic Narcotic

^*^

**Your thoughts...my child...are much more potent then Tsukasa, the other... The single qualm I have with you, however, is that you betrayed me before you fell into that coma...**

"I don't think family is represented by a voice in my mind." Pressing his palms against the windowsill, Sora's eyes continued to search the sky, strangely enamored as the bright blue began to dim on the western horizon. "That said, I don't see why I should believe you...madam." He chuckled under his breath merely to humor the basket case of a doctor watching him talk to himself. The old man was not very good at remaining stealthy; his bones practically creaked with the smallest movement. 

**Ah, ah, little Sora. Please...call me "mother".**

"You're kidding, right?" The boy let out a hoarse, melancholy bark of laughter, but stopped instantly; depicted on his plain, blank face was darkness and gloom. No response followed, so Sora initiated a further inquiry, extending his fingers to fumble with the window lock: "How exactly did I betray you..." He paused, and with a smirk-- "..._mother_?" The word was spat out, an abomination, a curse on his tongue.

A small throb surged in his arm, and mechanically as if he'd been doing it for years, the window was unlocked. "So you are useful for some things after all..." he murmured, tilting forward to further examine Tokyo.

**You interfered when I attempted to punish the other...your...brother. Tsukasa. I'm afraid I had made a mistake.**

Sora paused, gently mimicking the movements of the breeze with his hand. "I have a brother?" he asked softly, unwittingly yet slowly submitting to her claims. She confirmed this. "Why didn't the doctor let me see my family when I _asked_?" His tone became flat and standoffish, fingers curling to create a fist pulsating with anger. Yadate had long since slipped away...

**He couldn't have showed me to you if he tried. He is weak and imperceptive.**

"A fool," Sora agreed, running a hand through his verdant hair. Then the boy smirked again: the visage of mocking dubiety. "I would be the bigger fool if I didn't question the fact you most likely are a byproduct of my current mental handicaps," he added tactfully, mockingly. 

**You need me.**

With strength surprising for one who hadn't moved for half a year, Sora hoisted himself onto the window's tier. His short legs dangled aimlessly from the 16th floor window on the hospital's right wing, near the parking lot. "I know," he whispered, watching as a copper SUV sped to the entrance. "I know..."

He couldn't bring himself to jump.

^*^

"Annako, I need you to call BT. Use my cell." One hand guided the leather-coated steering wheel; the other pawed around until it discovered the cell phone. Ryo lightly slid it to the non-driving front seat; Annako picked it up and tilted her head questioningly. "She's in the address book, under the name Midori." The girl nodded, examining the Altimit logo on the blindingly luminescent screen before selecting the little "Address Book" icon.

She obliged, yet before pressing the call button she brushed a lock of brown out of her eyes and glanced upwards. "Eh, papa, you sure she'll _care_? Sora did kind of stalk her for a while...and...I doubt she'll react positively," a small, reluctant chuckle and Annako continued, "when she finds out her stalker is...ten years old..."

"This is a little more serious then you think, Annako-chan; now make that call!"

The brunette sighed, reluctant to release her good mood. Violet eyes flickering to the city beyond the glass-plastic window as her pale finger tapped the button. Almost immediately, there was a click and a woman's voice responded: "Hello..." The last syllable seemed to trail off, and Annako couldn't help noting: _BT sounds desolate in real life..._ "Ahem--who is calling?" Annako cleared her throat, dusting off her skirt as if to regain her composure.

"Hello, um, BT? This is Tsukasa--well, alright, this is Annako on Ryo's cell." 

^*^

"Oh, I see. Hello, Tsukasa--I mean, _Annako_." In a small café, a woman with silky blonde hair sips a cappuccino from a paper cup, watching a teenager play guitar in the center of the dimly-lit room. "May I ask why you're calling?" Midori Kawaguchi said, deep green eyes idly examining the familiar scenery. 

"Um, yeah," the teenage voice on the other end stammered, "well, here goes. Do you...remember Sora?"

Distractedly, Midori picked up a napkin and scrubbed at a lip gloss mark on the cup. "How could I not?" she articulated sarcastically. "That guy almost made me want to trash the video game altogether," she murmured, folding the napkin and setting it down on the table. "What about him?"

"Well, you remember how Mimiru-chan told you he went into a coma after we came back?"

"Yeah. He woke up?"

"How could you tell?"

"There weren't many options to choose from, Annako. Either he died or he woke up, and that's that." the 28-year-old woman said flatly. The moon began to stream in from the short-trimmed velvet on the windows, glinting off a brown highlight in Midori's hair. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Well...you know, he really kinda does admire you, and..." Annako trailed off, allowing the former model to fill in the blanks with a scandalized tone.

"I am _not_ going with you to see that twerp of a man. [1] Sorry."

"Aw, come on..."

"Good bye, Annako. See you in the game." In a flash, Midori had tapped the "hang up" icon with her manicured fingernails and resumed nonchalantly listening to the gentle strumming of the acoustic guitar. She raised the paper cup to her lips, and for a moment, she stayed like that, ensnared to her own peace of mind, until-- 

"_Damnit_!!!" With that vehement exclamation, Midori launched up from her seat so instantaneously, the dark oak stool she had been sitting on toppled over as did her coffee. She grabbed her phone from the table and stalked out of the café, grumbling swears.

The coffee shop was struck with nihilistic speechlessness, until the adolescent girl that had been playing her instrument was so flabbergasted, she toppled off the stage.

^*^

**A/N**: Woo! And finally, BT comes into the story. Hooray!

[1] BT has no idea how old Sora is. *laughs* Hey, no one does. Except maybe Bear, but he doesn't know exactly how young Sora is--perhaps simply that he's younger then, what, 14?


	5. And I Had Killed Her

**A/N**: Ah! Thanks for the clarification, Witticism! ^_^ Perhaps later I will make some adjustments to that chapter to more suit those facts...but I'm too lazy to do that now. *Laughs* Further in the story I'll start using the name "An" (as a nickname) because that's what I keep hearing... 

I apologize for the delay. The site was screwed up lately; I was a tad angry thereafter, and I hadn't bothered to check its progress. Without further ado...

Enjoy the show. (I need to be shot for using that catchphrase. I really do.)

**Disclaimer**: No .hack for Konyo.

^*^

**Chapter 4: And I Had Killed Her**

_See how what she wanted and she needed  
Tore it all down in the end  
Somehow like a sickness, she infects me  
She's simple but deadly, my friend  
_**Something of Value** - Yellowcard

^*^

"I don't know how or why I let you people manipulate me like this." grumbled Midori, rather displeased by the fact she was standing by the hospital's glass sliding doors and dusting off her dark, velvet skirt. The two people composing the Sakuma family merely chuckled tentatively, the daughter folding her arms behind her skull. "Let's see the damn kid, then we leave...rather, _I_ leave. If you need me thereafter, I'll be in the America server, attempting not to get killed."

Ryo smiled. "After tonight, you can forget about the guy altogether. Promise."

"Not likely." A strand of chestnut brown was shoved out of her eyesight, and Midori briskly trotted into the hospital, followed by Ryo and Annako--the teenage girl nearly had to run to keep up with "BT" and her long strides. "What was his name, Sakuma?"

Annako and Ryo glanced at each other, and then chorused obligingly, "Hikaru Mitsurugi."

"Right." She turned to the secretary-type woman sitting in a desk much resembling a bowl; its porcelain features curved upwards from the floor, attempting to veil the bland blonde behind the shell. "Excuse me, miss. My colleagues and I...we're looking for a person named Hikaru Mitsurugi who was...'committed' here six months ago." Without looking up, the short-haired secretary continue tapping the keyboard lightly, yet without skipping a beat responded:

"Sixteenth floor, second room on the left. Doctor Yadate is taking care of him; he recently woke up--" Annako tilted forward to see the secretary was reading off the screen..._quite professional_, she admitted mentally. "--with no memories."

Silence followed. The dying lights wavered and then rekindled themselves--someone must've been fixing them. Finally, Annako spoke, eyes brimming with angered tears. "You're lying."

The feral tone impelled the concentrated woman to look up. "Pardon?" she asked uncertainly, rather put off. But the violet-eyed teenager was long gone, and she merely caught a glimpse of chestnut-brown and gold wisps of hair whooshing after her. For a moment, the secretary could only glance back at the monitor. _Cause of Ailment: collapsed playing video game The World; suffered severe head trauma._

Hadn't she seen a case similar to this before? A girl awoke from a coma the same day Hikaru Mitsurugi was rushed in... The secretary frowned slightly, her stony expression faltering beneath her perplexity. More typing; more clicking...in the hospital's search engine, she typed in "The World".

_Results 1-6 out of 6_

_Takayama Annako;  
Committed: December 2009  
Cause of Ailment: Collapsed playing video game The World_

The woman stared at the shimmering screen for a while. Then she shook her head, raven hair spilling over her shoulders, and pressed Alt+F4. Some things were probably better left alone.

^*^

"What's wrong, Annako?" In the elevator, Annako rocked back and forth on her tanned sneakers, as if itching to burst out of the doors; Midori merely folded her arms and stared emotionlessly ahead, occasionally sending a small glare towards the teenage girl's impatience. "It's just Sora."

"But...but it's my fault he's here in the first place...and...and I..." Annako hung her head, stray locks of hair shading her eyes. "I need to thank him...and...I feel really...bad about this..."

There was a short-lived quiet, which Annako used to tie her shoes.

"When Annako woke up from her coma, she didn't lose any of her memories," Ryo said suddenly, watching the seconds tick by on the elevator's marble-framed wall clock. "What makes this case any different?" Suddenly, Annako flinched, uncomfortable memories rushing back to greet her. The fact that the adults kept discussing her as if she wasn't there didn't help much.

"Her subconscious was trapped in The World. The Voice had simply disposed of her body, leaving her mind. This is _different_. No one has seen Sora in the game since six months ago--the Twin Blade player killer that had annihilated most players of the Delta server." The elevator screeched to a halt, and with great effort and groaning the doors pulled themselves open. The trio walked out hesitantly, Ryo and Annako at a somewhat faster pace then the leisurely steps Midori took, and entered the second room on the left.

On a vastly open windowsill, a 10-year-old boy dangled his legs aimlessly over the surface, humming and tapping his fingers on the concrete in tune. His hair was thin, jutting out in several directions; with blatant disregard to the heights he could plummet, the boy formerly known as Hikaru Mitsurugi watched the moon teeter over the horizon, battling for view with Tokyo's massive business firms and perhaps a Ferris wheel illuminated with a Yin Yang symbol.

"Hikaru Mitsurugi?" Ryo asked with a cagey note to his voice. Yet the boy did not answer; he merely hummed louder. "Err...excuse me?" The man began to walk inside, yet catching him by his trench coat's collar, Midori walked in instead.

"Sora?" she asked, voice humdrum and rather sans emotion. 

The boy's humming came to a sudden anchor, legs and arms suddenly stiff as a board. Mechanically, his head craned around to make eye contact with the woman...whose voice was...startlingly familiar. _Those eyes--they were in my...my flashback. Mother, I think I found the woman of my very literal dreams. _He smirked, glancing at Midori's pine-green optics.

**...**

Sora chuckled remorselessly, using his hands to guide himself off the window rail and into his white-and-gray tomb. He advanced slowly upon the trio, yet stopped still far away; the boy raised his palms and turned them for a bit before producing a ballpoint pen out of thin air. "Neat trick, huh." After no one responded, he shrugged haplessly. 

"What are you doing here, in my room?" he asked slowly, a sly enunciation settling on every word. "On second thought...who are you, miss?" Sora's crimson gaze flickered to Midori and lingered there for a moment, before shifting to Ryo and Annako with some thought. "Have we met?"

"Yes." 

But she said nothing more.

Sora grew impatient. "Where? And furthermore, who are you?"

Midori glared at the two members of the Sakuma family before folding her arms and looking down at Sora condescendingly. "I am Midori Kawaguchi. We _have _met online; in a video game called The World. You killed my character," she said accusingly (or scathingly), "several times. I am still quite pissed."

_Is she lying? I really killed people?_

**You have autonomy. I have little control or regard for actions considered negative by others.**

_I see..._

**Technically, you killed no one.**

_Good enough for me._

"It's good to know that I've bothered attractive people, then," Sora chirped good-naturedly. "So what do you want from me? Have a thirst for vengeance? I suppose the brown-haired girl and the old man have their separate reasons."

The lavender-eyed girl blinked and cleared her throat, tapping it a few times with the side of her fist. "A-actually Sora, we're coming t-to take you home..." she said slowly.

"I'll have to ask my mother," Sora said airily, turning his back to the highly confused trio. Mother? Well, Ryo could only expect as much from a 10-year-old boy, still at his parents' beck and call... The man prepared to announce something he suspected would startle the boy. He felt awfully cruel for his crude explanation...but still... he had a right to know.

"Sora, your mother--she's... W-well, she thought you were dead, and...left...you...here." His gaze shifted to the floor. "So...I...we're going to adopt you."

A mirthless bout of laughter suddenly echoed in the compact room, and Sora turned around again, hair fanning around his forehead before settling in front of his eyes. "Very imperceptive of you," he said rhythmically, tapping his foot, "as _mother_..." For a moment, he trailed off. "...Well, let's just say we're very in tune. So, why not? I will go with you, old man! Better tell the other geezer I'm leaving this place..."

"Mother" did not seem to object.


	6. Making Minor Adjustments

**A/N**: Another chapter on the go. I update as much as possible. Heh. Enjoy... I'm not gonna say the last two words 'cause I'm lazy and it'll sound cornier then usual.

I'm debating whether or not to have a pairing in this story. Probably not.

Hmm...well, updates on school weeks will come every other day. That'll probably be my schedule. There will almost always be at least one update on Friday, Saturday, or Sunday, so...uh...okay.

Hello, new reviewers! It's cool to see you. Woot!

**Disclaimer**: .hack does not belong to Konyo of Dusk.

^*^

**Chapter 5: Making Minor Adjustments**

_I'm so tired of being here__  
Suppressed by all my childish fears  
If you have to leave  
I wish that you would just leave  
'Cause your presence still lingers here  
And it won't leave me alone  
_ **My Immortal** - Evanescence

^*^

"You didn't tell him about his parents beforehand!? How they left him _for dead_!?" Ryo Sakuma's frustration with Doctor Yadate was steadily growing; the old man knew little to nothing about his patient. Ryo usually had boundless amounts of good-natured patience, yet there were some situations in which it could be...easily tampered with. "What were you trying to pull over his eyes? What if I hadn't come to assume custody of Sora!?" 

The current situation being: the doctor was an idiot. The elderly man in the white coat cleared his throat for a moment, worn gray eyes flittering helplessly to an amused Midori and a hapless Annako. "I--..." Yadate slowed down, then sighed. "Just...just sign these papers and take the boy home..." A packet of papers was passed to the man on the opposite side of the desk.

Ryo opened his mouth to debate the point some more, but Annako merely prodded her foster father with a flick of her thumb and forefinger. The 47-year-old man grumbled swears under his breath and grabbed a pen from the desk canister, scribbling furiously onto the forms. "Someone get Sora," he mumbled, scrawling his signature onto a thin line marked by an X.

"No need." From the shadowy corner of the room, the green-haired boy stepped out of the darkness, hands tucked slackly in his pockets. "Hurry up. I'm hungry," he complained. 

The file cabinet room had, and always had been empty before Doctor Yadate and company entered. "How did you get in?" she asked pointedly, raising an eyebrow. "The doctor locked the door as soon as we entered."

"I picked the lock." the 10-year-old said impatiently, as if explaining how two plus two equaled four.

At the time, Midori was the only one who had the slightest suspicion about this concept. She wouldn't mention anything about it; at least, for now.

"Well, Sora, hopefully I'll never see you again, because that means you're well. I hope you have a nice time with your new family," said the doctor wearily as Ryo put down the pen. "Good night."

And Midori, Sora, Ryo, and Annako each filed out of the room. Sora was last, casting a single glance at the room before shutting the door.

^*^

Once outside and at the duo of cars stationed by the hospital doors, Midori immediately turned to Ryo, Annako, and Sora. "I am _going home_. I'm not going to play 'super sleuth' in the real world as I did in the game, so you're on your own." She frowned, beginning to walk towards her car. Before she opened the door, she shrugged. "Maybe he's better off with amnesia," Midori said coldly before entering the driver's seat and pulling out of the hospital parking lot.

There was a bit of silence as a disinterested Sora watched the car speed out into the night. "She really doesn't like me, does she," he mused, hands folded behind his head.

"I hate to break it to you, but she hates you pretty badly," Annako said earnestly. Sora's eyebrow lifted smoothly, and he smirked.

"I'm afraid I've been neglecting this question, and pardon my rudeness, but I must ask--_who the hell are you_?"

"Uh? Me? I'm Annako Sakuma, your new...sister." Annako smiled softly and quickly bowed before heading towards the car. Sora briskly trailed along, Ryo a tad hesitant as she spoke. "I'm...16 years old. I go to Daimon High School...umm...I like writing and drawing. How's that?"

"Do you play that video game that woman talked about...The World?"

"Huh? Oh, yes...so does papa. Before you fell into a coma...I wasn't able to log out...it's hard to explain, but when you get your memories back, you'll know why you have my thanks." For a moment, Annako had been taken aback by the question; regaining her composure, she deemed it innocent enough to be answered. "Maybe...you could log in sometime..." she said slowly. 

_As in not on the account that's famous for causing mass genocide,_ Ryo thought with a small smile.

"Maybe I will--"

**Not yet.**

"--later." _It sounds innocent enough, "mother_," he thought in a "dry" tone, marching towards where Ryo indicated and plopping in the back seat. "Hey old man, when do I start school again?" he asked casually, propping his feet as high as he could on the back of Annako's chair (which wasn't very far).

"If I'm going to be some kind of guardian to you...Sora, you should at least call me by my first name. Or some kind of fatherly nickname, like Annako does."

"Gramps? Pappy? Pops? The list goes on."

Ryo sighed, pulling out of the lot and heading for the road. Annako giggled under her breath. "But yes," he said, "I do intend on enrolling you in school ASAP. Maybe your old school. Might help you..." His tone became slightly quieter. "...regain some of your memories or something..." 

"The past is the past. Memories--not really among my prime concerns." Sora decided for himself with a simple wave of his wrist, dismissing it.

"You don't understand, Sora. Amnesia is a little more serious then you _think_."

"Amnesia is a little less serious then _you_ think," Sora countered casually. "'Sides, mother said I didn't need my memories, so it doesn't matter anymore."

Annako smiled grimly, hugging her knees in the car seat and examining her reflection in the mirror. _Heh...I knew a "mother" like that...from a game, from a long time ago._

_**Morganna**..._


	7. On the First Day

**A/N**: Eek! I feel terrible about neglecting my update schedule, so I decided to write another chapter ASAP. I apologize! I'll restart my schedule...perhaps next week? 

I apologize if Subaru does not show up much in this story, or at all. Hopefully this won't offend you, but I'm not much of a Subaru fan, or a Subaru/Tsukasa one for that matter. Sorry!!!

Err...alright. The chapters of this story are admittedly...very short. Heh. Oh well; that's the current style for this and I'll stick to it. I think the shortness of each chapter is a kind of style for this piece. Sorry.

Enjoy! As in, the show.

**Disclaimer**: .hack belongs to Bandai, I think. I own the black-haired girl Kiyoki--Sora's real life friend. She will play no major role in the story, and is not a Mary Sue because any romance in this story leans towards a one-sided Sora/BT infatuation. Don't worry.

^*^

**Chapter 6: On the First Day**

_We work so hard just to lose__  
That's why we're building up walls  
To put up around us  
We walk through life in a maze  
With no direction, no sight  
Only hope that you'll find your way  
_**Unbreakable **- The Suicide Machines

^*^

A pale Wavemaster with salmon-shaded markings on his face raised his staff and commands from it: "La Repth!" The Heavy Blade across him grinned as 150 of her hit points were restored, and with a final raise of her sword, the enemy lingering on the fleshy floors of the dungeon tumbled into the ground and faded away. A treasure chest appeared in its wake, and Mimiru sat down next to it triumphantly. 

"You can open this one," she said, tapping it with her forefinger. "Man, I'm tired. How many floors does this thing _have_?" she whined as Tsukasa busily tapped at the Risky Treasure's lock with his Fortune Wire. Yet even as he collected the Restorative within, he did not say anything. "You okay?" she asked.

Tsukasa stood. "Sora..." he mumbled, leaning on his staff.

"Oh...how's he doing? Did you take him home?"

"...Sora insisted he be enrolled in school immediately...his first day is today." The Wavemaster tossed back a piece of white hair, lavender eyes shielded by his eyelids. "Papa and I are worried...but nothing was stopping him..." Tsukasa plopped down onto the ground next to Mimiru, prodding at the ground and wincing at the squishing noise it made upon contact.

"Ah, he'll be okay. Sora acts like a...uh...tough kid, I guess. He can deal with it..."

"He has amnesia."

"...you're kidding, right? He's going to school without...the faintest clue about it? About _anything_!?" A pause; silence; a nod. Tsukasa was tempted to shield his ears for the barrage of vehement disapproval that was coming. "Damn, what a stupid kid!!!" Mimiru rolled her eyes, leaning on her sword and rolling her slate blue eyes. "Why didn't Bear make him stay home? At least for a little while! Didn't even let himself recuperate!"

Tsukasa said nothing, sadly focusing on the dungeon's blood-shaded walls.

"Shit! What if he's one of those kids that gets beaten up? He won't have a clue about that--oh man, the pressure's _killing_ me..." she whined, slumping over.

"He...seems to be able to handle himself," Tsukasa said helplessly, quite unsure of the fact himself. "...Well, he has a lot of confidence...for someone who refuses to be called by his real name in the real world...and for someone who was adopted the day he woke up."

"Maybe you could look for his parents," Mimiru said suddenly. "If they found out he wasn't going to die, then they might take him back into their custody..."

"Papa wouldn't trust them with Sora...with Hikaru. He'd probably call them horrible parents...for leaving their son...just to _die_, you know?"

Silence.

"I'm gonna talk to BT later. But 'till then...yeah, I gotta go. Later, Tsukasa..." Mimiru pulled a Sprite Ocarina from the sleekly-hidden pocket on the back of her skirt. Playing a low, melancholy tune, the gleaming gold of bangles wrapped around her character's figure, and with that, she vanished. Her silhouette--an aftereffect of suddenly "vanishing"--bid him a final adieu with a continuous wave.

Tsukasa remained there for a few moments before standing up and continuing towards the bowels of the dungeon. _Sora acts like a tough kid..._now_... I wonder what he was like, before the coma._

^*^

"Well, if it ain't Mitsurugi, back to school." A rather rotund child perhaps twice Sora's height glowered down on an uninterested amnesiac. "I was missing a random loser to beat down nonetheless, so why not select someone who needs to..._readjust_?" The dark green haired boy said nothing, simply fixing his crimson gaze at a pillar some distance ahead. "Hope you liked your hospital room. You might end up visiting it again."

Lacking regard, Sora began: "One." Cold, flat, one syllable-- "The absolute worst you could do would be to sit on me with that walrus you call an ass."

The porky boy, Akira, turned an ugly shade of grapefruit-purple at that comment; gasps and hushed whispers of "Hikaru's back!" and "Hikaru's gonna get beaten up again..." resonated within a half-mile radius. A crowd began to form, to which Sora paid no attention.

"Two. _Who the hell are you_?"

**...this world is full of fools...**

Suddenly, a raven-haired girl pushed through the crowd, dusting off her skirt as she did so. "Akira Nakamura, leave him alone! _I'm warning you_!" yelled the girl, pointing an accusing finger at the "Walrus Ass," as Sora had dubbed him.

"Go to hell, Kiyoki." Walrus Ass stated, finally finding his voice. And as if on cue, tall, lanky boys with faces like rats shifted forward, perhaps on Akira's whim merely to allow the "Kiyoki" girl to be once again swallowed by the crowd. Her shrieks of angered protest were muffled by hushed jeers. "...Well, seeing as how she already told you my name, let's get down to business, Hikaru Mitsurugi." 

He smirked and folded his fingers with his opposing fist, attempting to crack his knuckles. However, no sound emitted from the blubber-coated hands, and Akira dropped them quickly to his sides.

**...you can start with this one...**

Slowly, Sora slid two pairs of scissors out of his knapsack; he had snatched them from Ryo's cabinet. Hopefully, "dadoo" wouldn't mind... "Three," he mumbled dazedly, not quite concentrating on the fat boy who had insulted him. "...Would you mind saying my name again?"

"Yes, I would."

**...shed his blood...**

"**_Say it again_**."

He spoke in a synchronized voice, much unlike the 10-year-old pre-adolescent one many had adapted by then... It was more oily, smooth; smarmy, if you will, like a man in an alley about ready to sell a child candy.

A noble attempt to hide a stutter forced out of fear: "H...Hikaru Mitsurugi. What's the big deal?"

"Why does everybody call me that...?"

**...for he does not know who you are...**

The school bully did not dare reply. Sora idly twirled the scissors around his lanky fingers, raising up his hands to allow a decent view. They executed loop-de-loops, artfully maneuvering around his fingers and over them as if they knew their boundaries...and the boy hadn't even so much as moved anything except the occasional flick of his wrist. Bored, Sora's feet slowly shifted perhaps shoulder-length apart--a battle stance seen in martial arts...

More murmurs ripped through the crowd like wildfire on dry grass. "Hikaru's got skills!" "I didn't think Hikaru was capable of such a thing..." "Is this really Hikaru?" "The Hikaru, from fourth grade, the computer nerd!?" "But...Akira has always picked on Hikaru, ever since he was little..."

**...and though they may know...**

"I know nothing of any of you," Sora said suddenly--loudly, grasping and holding everyone's attention rather capably for a short little boy. "Still..." A pause. "...a reintroduction is not necessary, as I no longer **care**." The same silky tone bounced out on the last word. "**I am Sora**."

Unwise and panicked, Akira chose that time to charge with a short battle cry. His body lumbered in slow motion and suddenly lifted itself off the ground. A body slam. 

Which Sora sidestepped.

The hulking boy crashed to the ground, his blubber prompting sliding a good three or four feet away from the scissors-wielding boy whose back was to him. Persistent, however, Akira clambered clumsily to his feet and placed his fists under his chin in an amateur's fisticuffs stance. 

"**You don't stand a chance in hell against me.**"

**...who you were...**

Akira snarled viciously--if not for the fact this was a civilized century, he may as well have been foaming at the mouth. And he stepped forward, fist flying out from its position beneath his twin chins directly at what would be Sora's neck.

"**Absolutely no skill.**" Lightheartedly, the fat boy opened his squinty eyes to see that he had hit nothing but perhaps air. The crowd gasped--the green-haired boy appeared suspended in the air until he landed rather catlike on his feet, behind the school bully. "No offense..." Sora whispered--a murmur, although it seemed to carry itself in the air. "...but I think..." 

**...they cannot handle...**

His hand planted itself on the ground, and his right foot jutted out, smashing into the back of Akira Nakamura's right ankle. A sickening crack lashed at the air loudly, like a whip.

Akira fell.

The fifth grade amnesiac rose to his feet and tucked his hands in the pockets of his pants. "...that you're a **buffoon**."

Sora spit disgustedly onto the back of Akira's head and slouched away, a lethargic panther willing and ready to strike. As he disappeared behind a hallway, cheers and great whoops exploded in the halls; Kiyoki, perhaps Hikaru Mitsurugi's only friend from kindergarten and beyond, wrenched herself free of captors and scrambled after him. But she, too, was suspicious.

She was Hikaru Mitsurugi's friend. She was not...Sora's...whoever Sora was...

**...who you will be.**

^*^

**A/N**: For clarification: when Sora speaks in **bold text**...well...it's Sora, in a sense. His regular voice seems to have been..."overwritten" by his voice data from The World. Odd, ne?...

When Sora is not speaking--as in there are no quotation marks, heh--the **regular** bold text is Morganna's. 


	8. Thirst for Reality

**A/N**: Weekend update! Sora is good. We love Sora. Let's all worship Sora and his mad skills. Yes. Enjoy. (That's an order.) Sorry for update lack. I am a slow, sad little person. Please don't hurt me. 

Short review response--yay! Hello people! Thank you for gracing the story with your presence. Sniff. Since Taltos had a very snazzy idea, and since outlooks on Sora's magical voice and attitude need a little depth, there's a small paragraph at the start; it's vague, it's out of place, but I love it anyway. Eheheh. 

I am so proud of this chapter...

**Disclaimer**: Konyo of Dusk has no power over .hack...otherwise, stuff would happen. It would be cool stuff. Curse you, Bandai!

^*^

**Chapter 7: Thirst for Reality**

_Nothing changes, nothing will  
Always skeptic, primed for the kill  
Seeking nothing but selfish gain,  
filling your pockets, again and again  
Selling your soul, taking your fill  
Grasping at straws, feeding your own will  
Killing your conscience, empty, bereft  
Losing your life for the world, you are left alone  
_ **Left** - Five Iron Frenzy

^*^

_  
"Hikaru always aspired to be something more then an introverted __scholar. He crouched on the thin banister of the second floor, peering over. I reached out to him fearfully. I thought he would fall. Yet he showed no signs of losing his balance, and not wanting to trigger any mishap, I cautiously approached him. __'**Is the fatass crying?**' Hikaru had asked suddenly, without a hint of qualm or panic, in his 'new' voice. '**Are they going to cure him, release him and let him free once more to **_**RUN RAMPANT LIKE AN ANIMAL!?**'_ And as his voice rose in volume, his eyes tainted with rage instead of his usual naïve charm... _

_"God...that...that's when I truly feared _him_...Hikaru...no, I fear the one called Sora."_ Kiyoki

The door was pushed open, and it glided on its hinges before thumping against the wall of Ryo's large townhouse; Ryo only looked up once, eyebrow lifted in spite of itself, before standing and crossing the room to close the door behind a soaked Sora. For a moment, the house was quiet, except for the shyest hint of music coming from Annako's room.

Ryo sighed and rubbed at his heavy-lidded eyes with the back of his knuckle. "Sora," he began begrudgingly, "if you were planning to take the long way home, you could've called me from the school so I could've picked you up." His voice held a hint of a plea, one that spoke loud and clear to Sora: _let me help you._ Ah, how familiar it sounded...yet no matter how loud or clear the statement was, it fell upon deaf ears. 

_This is not a good way to start a parental relationship,_ the man thought dully. 

Sora didn't speak; his eyes were cut, as if focusing on something on the floor a few feet ahead. Yet it was a small expression of bottled rage--heat and frustrations emitted from his small frame, vibes so strong that even patient Ryo felt the need to step away. 

Instead of a scream, a shout, or a tantrum as a parent may have expected...the boy laughed. 

It was the maniacal laughter a villain off television would've burst into after committing some heinously comical crime; cruel and bitter, forced out by what Annako, from her room and over droned music, could only recognize as sadistic amusement. She flung herself from her seat, and her homework slid off the desk, riding the soft air-conditioned breeze to the carpet. And she bolted out of her room as if having heard a blood-curdling scream instead of the barking hysterics. 

Sora's hand snaked into his pocket, pulling out a pair of office scissors. And slowly, they loop around his fingers a few times before sliding easily from his grip. As they clattered onto the ground, Annako's hands flew to her mouth with a stricken gasp.

As the blood on the blades sprinkled onto the floor, and as Annako and Ryo alike adapted a horrified expression, Sora didn't stop.

Whether mirth or perhaps hints of longing despair itching to be released in the locked confines of Sora's memory, tears, warm and uninvited, swarmed down his cheeks. Laughter dissolved into cruelly-maintained silence, and an attempt to regain composure by silence; his hands shook at his sides, yet he made no motion to wipe away the saltine liquid that trickled off his face. Ryo slowly plucked the scissors off the floor, wolf-gray gaze lingering on his foster son.

**Stop crying, Sora.**

And he tried--oh, Sora tried to swallow back the lump building in his throat, and he tried to cultivate what little sanity he owned, sinking slowly to his knees. The boy's hands wrung themselves in the air, as if grasping at something invisible in front of him... A garbled sound of despair escaped, and suddenly, his body churned in pain. Where did the pain come from!?

**STOP CRYING, SORA, OR ELSE.**

"**Is this...**" A whisper dying to be a scream, loud enough for the puzzled and worried Ryo to hear and ghastly enough to cause the usually calm and gentle Annako to flinch. "..._punishment!?_" The last disconsolate fragment, the last word of his complaint was hoarse and wheezy as his body racked with dispatched sobs. And finally, the weeping could not be silent any longer.

_Tsukasa-kun, let's be friends._

It was an unnerving experience for Ryo--a notation made later when all was silent and no one was there to object to his claims. To watch a child crushed by mental anguish, especially when no one has the faintest idea of what's running through his mind_. _He hadn't seen an ordeal of this caliber for nearly seven months...and he had prayed he wouldn't experience anything of the sort again.

Sora's knees gave way underneath him, and the feel of Annako's arms gently pulling him upwards as he collapsed was the final key, locking the chains that dragged him down into unconsciousness. 

^*^

A pale Wavemaster in tan and gray robes ported in at the Chaos Gate in Dun Loireag, promptly followed by a hulking Blademaster in blue and white body paint much resembling the video game hero Player Character Orca. They stand there idly for a moment, without speaking yet occasionally glancing around. A player rushed past, and Tsukasa was prompted to step aside, but not before getting smacked in the side by the Twin Blade girl's long braid.

_Ow._

"Good evening," a sultry woman's voice called from behind them. "What's with the late-night calls, Bear? I'm going to burn dinner." BT stepped up to them, and the trio walked in unison across the bridge to a more secluded peak of the mountaintop city. 

Bear decided not to beat around the bush. "It's about Sora."

BT gave him a cold, unforgiving stare, that which could be accomplished by simply narrowing a fraction of her solemn eyes. In spite of her physical reaction, her head tilted to the side slightly. "Ah, yes. Still amnesiac?" Tsukasa nodded aimlessly, his eyes examining the foggy distances of the Root Town. A spiritless worry twinkled beneath shades of emerald. "So, what's wrong with him?" she prompted, leaning on her staff.

"He came home from school this afternoon--" Bear paused, then frowned slightly. "Don't make a crack on how he went to school too soon; I'm not willing to touch on the subject." The blonde Wavemaster shrugged dismissively, eluding any further lecturing. Seeing no hint of argument, he continued: "Anyway; he came back from school this afternoon. ...I'll be frank: he took out a pair of blood-covered scissors, dropped them, laughed hysterically, and then cried. Then he passed out."

_Without skipping a beat._ Tsukasa had visibly shuddered each time Bear listed one of the points of the escapade; flecks of violet studied the ground so intensely, one may have wondered if he was willing the mountain to open up and swallow him on the spot. And then Tsukasa spoke, voice quavering: "And...his hands...were twitching...like he was having a seizure, but...only his hands.

"Then he asked...if it was..._punishment..._" Bear was quiet, and it was his turn to avert his gaze in the feeble hopes he would disappear on the spot. BT knew; she read people like books, and could pry them open. He felt as if he had failed...failed to introduce the awoken into a world that would do him some good. She didn't smile. 

Tsukasa's head shot up. "His voice...it was like...it was not...a little boy's..."

"It was his player character's."

Striding out from the misty depths, the infamous hacker, Helba, glided out of the abyss and onto the platform. All was silent for a while; BT glanced around casually to realize--_no other player was moving._ It was as if they were frozen; frozen in time...

Helba bowed deep and low as she usually did when gracing others with her presence. And her second opening statement was: "Morganna is on the move."


	9. Access to Relapse Denied

**A/N**: I have an evil plan to save the world for every man! ...Nonetheless... I'm still very proud of the last chapter, 'cause I have no life. Sigh. Well...here's the next part of _Named By Submission_. Enjoy the show...well...per se, it's not a show, but...that's a technicality. Read damn you.

LOOK! IT'S HELBA, EVERYONE'S FAVORITE INTERNATIONAL HACKER WITH A SCARY CHARACTER DESIGN! 

In this chapter, Helba explains stuff. Which is good, in case you haven't played the games. If you do know about Data Bugs and whatnot, then you can stare vacantly at the text, then you can impale the author on a pointy stick... This is mainly an explanatory chapter, which means not much fun. Oh well...

The worlds of the show and the game collide! Difference being? Since Sora's already awake...well, shit will happen! PREPARE FOR MINOR SPOILERS, BUT MOSTLY IT'S ALL ALTERED TO FIT THE PLOT. WOOHOO! DON'T HURT ME!

**Disclaimer**: I don't own .hack, the concepts related to it, or any of the songs I use as openings for that matter. 

^*^

**Chapter 8: Access to Relapse Denied**

_Your anger don't impress me  
The world slapped in your face  
It always rains like hell on the loser's day parade  
See, you'd love to run home, but you know you ain't got one  
That you're living in a world that you're best forgotten  
When you're thinkin' you're a joke, and nobody's gonna listen  
To the one small point I know they've been missing 'round here  
_ **Broadway **- Goo Goo Dolls

^*^

Tsukasa and Bear merely paused, then raised an eyebrow, the dominant emotion being puzzlement. No matter how familiar with the subject, poor Tsukasa/Annako knew nothing... Yet BT immediately stood stiff and rigid, expression brittle with the deepest concern; her staff was hoisted and tilted at her side, as if ready to zap the hacker in front of them into oblivion should she say something displeasing.

The elder Wavemaster spoke, valiantly trying to keep the waver out of her voice. "Are you serious? In what context do you say 'move'?"

"Quite." Helba said shortly and curtly. Her usual clever expression had faded, leaving the remains of a grimace. Her head moved ever so slightly, allowing ample time for Tsukasa to figure out she was staring at _him_. "You're lucky you woke up sooner then _she_ had hoped," she said, bowing once more as a means to express respect and gratitude to whatever outside forces prevented further threat. Her pose didn't remain that way for more then a second, and she snapped back to attention, coldly stating: "Sora was not as lucky." She cleared her throat, preparing to deliver some supposedly life-threatening news: 

"The power of the phase Skeith's data drain has pulled a piece of Morganna Mode Gone's data into the real world; into the mind of the unlucky recipient. A small ring of hackers I have met on occasion have called it a 'Virus'." She paused for a second and looked at BT, who nodded slowly, confirming her comprehension. Then, Helba continued. "I am...unsure whether or not Morganna knows her voice has cultivated itself in the minds of comatose and amnesiac players.

"But she _is_ growing stronger. Little by little, she has sent Skeith to players who have encountered a Data Bug...

"Be it a glance or a confrontation, messages on the boards regarding the 'disjointed fiend' have multiplied. Although the administrators continue to delete them, players and hackers insist on being heard...word is spreading fast. Even well-known players...Balmung of the Azure Sky included, enraged by the...loss...of his partner...insist on quarantining the sighting areas."

BT seemed to fully understand, and she nodded quickly, fidgeting in place.

_Cat PC__... _Both Bear and Tsukasa winced visibly, but nothing was said. "Hold the phone," Bear interrupted hastily, shaking his head and holding up one hand to halt the cryptic code Helba seemed to be speaking in. "Who's Morganna? And is the cat PC..." He trailed off. The second question would not be answered, however. Not for a while.

BT and Helba stared at Bear. Bear stared at Helba. BT raised an eyebrow at Helba. Helba stared at BT. Tsukasa stared at BT. BT frowned at Helba. Helba stared at Tsukasa. BT tucked her staff under her arm. BT made quotation marks with her fingers.

"'_Mother._'" It was abridged; it was sufficient. Tsukasa's pupils shrunk considerably as the eyelids parted in alarmed recognition.

^*^

Annako shrank back from the monitor, as if repulsed by it; she stood and nearly tumbled backwards, knocking the chair over in her blindness. Her usually clandestine expression, somewhat shaded by the visor perched on her ears and masking her eyes, was wrought with a sort of isolated fear; the former problem was solved, as she flung the visor as far from her as possible and dashed to Sora's room, where a boy lay sleeping on the bed, cheeks stained with tears and hands washed of blood.

Ryo did not do the same, a small part of his senses not quite numbed and still seeking information. That which, of course, could only be retrieved from the two sly femme characters he was consulting. "Annako-chan, wait!"

^*^

As if speaking to no one, the character Bear craned his shoulder and yelled something nearly inaudible. The image of Tsukasa flickered for a moment, and then remained stagnant and unblinking. _She must have ran,_ BT thought with a glum expression, bowing her head. There were very few moments in which BT was sympathetic, and this was probably among the scarcity as she held more knowledge of the daunting voice then Tsukasa's own...well, "father".

The Blademaster's head turned back around slowly, eyes grief-stricken. Resolve steely now in an effort to save his daughter and to not fail his new son, he spoke, voice stern: "I want everything that Helba told you--" he pointed to BT "--reiterated for me."

For perhaps the first time in the ex-Wavemaster's "play time" in The World, Helba appeared unsure. And she cleared her throat, and she spoke.

^*^

**Helba & BT's Information** - Ryo Sakuma

·".hackers" - _two players recently registered to The World--a Twin Blade, Kite, and a Heavy Blade, BlackRose. Kite possesses Bracelet of the Twilight. __  
_·Bracelet of the Twilight - _the AI Aura gave this to Kite. can data drain--in other words, can do to monsters (people?) as what happened to Sora. Twilight--The World "apocalypse"  
_·Skeith; Phases - _Skeith, summoned by in-game AI Morganna; one of the phases in the Epitaph ordered to bring destruction on The World. data drained Sora 6 months ago. phases--parts of the Epitaph of the Twilight; creatures summoned by Morganna to eliminate as many threats to the Twilight as possible (?)   
_·Morganna Mode Gone - _the voice who posed as Annako's "mother" in game 6 months ago. (voice in Sora's head???)  
_·Epitaph of the Twilight - _programmer Harold's ("broken man") love interest's poem. consists of Twilight, apocalypse of a world; Helba, queen of darkness and Apeiron (sys admin), king of light team up against "wave" (attack of phases and Twilight wrought by Morganna) _

^*^

In Sora's room, boxes threatened to tumble from their stack yet never fulfilling the deed; a few unused paint cans lingered in the corner. Ryo had bought them while he was at school. At the bedside, Annako lingered in a chair, hands clasped and gently rocking back and forth to a rhythm in her head; her usually whimsical expression had been replaced by fear and worry. She possessed perhaps one of the greatest fears of Morganna and all related concepts...

Even then, Annako was deathly aware that she didn't know the half of it. It was a bitter thought, and suddenly she wished her actions weren't quite as impulsive.

_He's so small._

The floppy-haired boy twisting in bed before her bore little resemblance to the Twin Blade she had met on the internet. More frail; there were scars of various shapes and sizes riddling his skinny arms, and the splotched remains of an unhealed bruise on his shoulder. The teenage girl extended one hand to clasp around his smaller one, noting the uneven nails that appeared to have been chewed on at some point in his life, and the specks of dirt that collected underneath them. 

_...needs food._

She allowed herself a small smile, brushing a bit of hair away from his eyes in a motherly fashion. _And a shower. His hair is greasy..._

"Annako," the voice of Ryo called out from the doorway; softly yet audibly. He edges in and shuts the door behind him, despite the lack of light in the small room. "This place is a mess..." he murmured sheepishly, glancing at the stacked boxes. He looked at his daughter and winced at the steely-cold look on her face. "Oh...yes. There are a few players with whom we should make contact," he paused, "if we are to help Sora."

"Who are they?" she asked softly, not bothering to look up and instead focusing on how Sora tossed around in his bed.

"A Twin Blade by the name of Kite, and a Heavy Blade named BlackRose..."

"Ready when you are..." Annako slowly stood up, releasing her grip on Sora's scar-laden wrist. 

Ryo nodded haphazardly and silently headed out of the room.

^*^

**A/N**: Woo! So uneventful! READ! REVIEW! LEAVE! 


	10. Daunted

**A/N**: WOOHOO! Chapter...nine, is it? Fanfics...they grow up so fast. Sniff. I remember when _Named by Submission_ was just a wee prologue...

Hmm...okay! 

...wow, the song looks like it has a bunch of The World puns. (Yes, I do add in these notes as I move along the story...) In this chapter! The debut of Balmung of the Azure Sky! Gotta love him. I know I do. Heh. Also our pal, the zesty BlackRose. Woot. Let's get this show on the road!

**Disclaimer**: .hack belongs to CC Corporation! Ooh. Spookeh. 

^*^

**Chapter 9: Daunted**

_The world I love, the tears I drop  
To be part of the wave can't stop  
Ever wonder if it's all for you?  
The world I love, the trains I hop  
To be part of the wave can't stop  
Come and tell me when it's time to...  
_** Can't Stop** - Red Hot Chili Peppers

^*^

"Papa, I'll be frank...did Helba give you _any leads_ whatsoever on...where to find these two players?"

"Of course. Member addresses--well, _address_. Only one player, apparently..." Bear shifted uncomfortably, reading a name off an invisible note on his palm. "Balmung of the Azure Sky." Both Wavemaster and Blademaster were quiet for a moment before frowning at one another and continuing. "He should...be able to take us to the .hackers." He smiled grimly, but the cynical Tsukasa raised an eyebrow, leaning on his orbed staff.

"Do you think a Descendant of Fianna would really waste his time with people like us?" Tsukasa snorted sardonically, flicking a tuft of pearly hair out of his eyes. "And they're _hackers_. People say Balmung is going to be an _admin_ soon. Do you realize how dumb we'll look?"

"It's our only chance, Tsukasa," Bear berated. "You're worrying too much. Balmung's a player, just like the rest of us."

The Wavemaster scoffed, apparently having an intense dislike of being belittled. "He's probably got some kind of inflated ego." The elder man stared, eyebrow slightly raised. Tsukasa shrugged. "Wouldn't you?"

Bear ignored the traces of femininity he could hear outside of the headset and folded his arms. "He's logged on. I'm going to send him a Flash Mail..." He smiles faintly, though neither find anything funny about the situation. "Don't be rude."

"What exactly will we accomplish by finding these .hackers?" 

Bear didn't respond for a moment; then, after a pause, finger hovering above an invisible object, he smiled once more. "We'll try to help Sora...and...maybe helping these .hackers fight Morganna is for the best." And finally, he stopped to fold his arms. "Now, we wait." He tapped his foot, but in mere moments, gold rings seeped out from the ground's textures and rose to Bear's height; clad in shimmering silver armor with folded wings, the white-haired player looked at the duo rather condescendingly.

"...May I help you?" Cold and unforgiving. Tsukasa scoffed. He had expected this from the beginning.

Still, the blue-painted Blademaster remained cool. He cleared his throat, attracting Balmung of the Azure Sky's attention. For a split-second, he cringed. _Why did he cringe?_

"Yes, you may." Obviously, Bear had no intention of taking crap from a level 60 player. "All we need you to do is...help us find two players." A pause. Balmung nodded slowly, puzzled russet eyes an incentive to continue. "...A Heavy Blade named BlackRose, and a Twin Blade named Kite. .hackers?"

The Descendant of Fianna was silent, stiffened, and rigid. His eyes had widened considerably, and his fingers twitched angrily at his sides.

Tsukasa smirked. "Well?"

"..._Those_ players," he said, voice ragged with aggravation, "should not be part of this World." He thrust his arm out to the side, causing Bear to stumble slightly backwards yet regaining his footing. The pale Wavemaster in tan and brown robes remained horribly indifferent, apparently unfazed by his rage. "_Why_ do you seek _them_ out!? Are you, too, hackers!?" sneered Balmung, hand shifting to the hilt of his blade.

Bear stammered, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish's. But no sound came out.

Tsukasa rolled narrowed amethyst eyes and shifted forward slightly, leaning once more on his staff with the rust-colored orb. 

"_Answer me!_"

"No." The Wavemaster spoke, quickly and monotonously as well as unimpressed by the angered assumptions. Again, the armored knight froze in place, eyes reading a simplistic question--_what?_ Tsukasa's posture straightened, and his eyes softened as if to relay a sympathetic message as he inquired: "Do you know Yasuhiko?"

Balmung said nothing. He stopped. Slowly, he slid out of a battle position, eyes vacant and unemotional. "How..." The power in his voice had faded. "...do you...know that name!?"

"Yasuhiko. One of six or so people who fell into a coma while playing The World," the Wavemaster recited, eyes raised slightly as if reading something off his eyelids. Bear stared unblinkingly. "After I woke up from my own coma, I...watched The World for a while. Until I was ready to play again...but I knew...I wasn't the only one."

Strands of paper-white hair fell over Balmung's eyes, shielding his expression. Hoarsely, he spoke: "...W-what relevance do the .hackers hold to you?"

"A player killer named Sora fell into a coma six months ago. He woke up recently with amnesia and with a piece of data infused in his mind. It was probably transferred through the headset and its connection to the game." Tsukasa's expression was grim and morbid as he spoke; his businesslike attitude warranted a strange sense of respect. "The data comes from an AI named Morganna. That's all papa--I mean, Bear and I know."

Balmung refused to make eye contact, silently lamenting on the loss of his best friend and partner. Resigned and with little hope for The World's future, he whispered, "I will take you to them.

"I will take you to the .hackers..."

^*^

Over the distant horizon of Mac Anu, a tanned girl with shrimp-colored hair and gold body paint leaned against the wall embracing the Chaos Gate. Occasionally, she glanced around impatiently, as if waiting for something whilst players appear and disappear; her sword was on the ground next to her, immense and ready to hack at some unsuspecting person.

"Lady BlackRose." One eyelid lifted and she studied her caller with a burgundy gaze. Immediately, BlackRose lifted her sword from the ground and slid into her battle position, eyes flaring and vein pulsating.

"Balmung, what do _you_ want!?" Their first meeting had not gone well, suffice to say, and BlackRose was never the kind of person to easily forget a misgiving or a grudge. Yet, one must imagine aggressive BR's surprise when Balmung had made no combat-ready retort or witty comment concerning his dislike for hackers. 

The Descendant stepped aside, revealing a quiet Bear and a stiff Tsukasa.

_She looks like Mimiru,_ Tsukasa thought suddenly.

"These people request the assistance of the .hackers. A relative of theirs fell ill by Morganna's hands; a piece of her data is infused into the mind of coma victims. They want a solution and they want revenge. Can the power of the Bracelet help them?" Balmung folded his arms, eyes downcast--he was once too proud to make such a request.

BlackRose, however, was slightly less formal, and slightly disturbed. "Did you get food poisoning or something?" Stares. "Ah...okay, sure, why not. Wait for Kite to log on, though. He's got the accessory; I'm just...an add-on."


	11. Trial By Introduction

**A/N**: Eek! Dramatic gap between last update and this update. This sucks, man. Sorry about that...but I'll try and make this chapter long for people who want to stab me. 

In this chapter...meet Kite. Average Twin Blade with the magical Bracelet...I like his clothes. They're of a very blinding color. And he's going to be one of the central characters in the remainder of the plot! We love Kite. (I'm also trying to squeeze in a bit of BR/K, simply because I love that pairing. HAHAHA!) I don't plan on making this story far too epic, so I'm still considering a lot of possibilities--let Bear and Tsukasa travel with Kite and friends, or have them watch Sora until they know Kite's fulfilled his mission? 

I modeled most of Tsukasa/Annako's personality to fit the antisocial butt he is at the beginning of the series to prove a level of insecurity among strangers...

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: Konyo of Dusk does not own .hack or related things... Damn you!

^*^

**Chapter 10**: **Trial By Introduction**

_Everything that you could never say  
Would never matter anyway  
I took a hammer and two nails to my eardrums long ago  
Before that steak knife took my eyes  
I looked up to the sky  
For the last thing I would ever see  
For the last time I'd cry__  
_**Mr. Chainsaw** - Alkaline Trio

^*^

Kite logged on to his usual Root Town, expecting to find BlackRose patiently waiting with her blade hoisted over her right shoulder. Instead, he was greeted by a larger crowd then he had expected--namely, a guy who looked a lot like Yasuhiko's character, a guy whose character design faintly resembled Elk's, and...Balmung of the Azure Sky.

Needless to say, Kite was very confused, because as soon as he appeared with his daggers at hand, they all started _staring at him_. Being a dispassionate hero, this act didn't cease to slightly frighten him.

His eyes swept about the scene for a moment, absorbing all he could, and finally they rested upon a sight slightly more comforting. As inconspicuously as possible--which wasn't very possible at all--he edged to BlackRose, glancing around nervously at the expectant bystanders. He leaned his head towards her ear and whispered weakly: "Uh...what's going on?"

She bit back a giggle, but maintained a semi-solemn disposition. She extended her arm to indicate the gray-and-tan-clad Wavemaster and the blue-painted Blademaster. "Err...they need your help."

"Why?"

BlackRose sighed, rubbing her palm against her forehead in exasperation. "Because you have the Bracelet and know just a _little bit_ about Morganna..." She trailed off, making a slight gesture to prove her point.

"Ah. ...Oh." Kite paused and turned to the group, examining each in turn. 

The white-haired Wavemaster scoffed and leaned on his staff, closing his eyes in exasperation. "He looks and sounds kinda dumb, if you ask me..."

"What was that!?" Kite snapped. 

For a moment, there was a moment of silence; the air was hung with invisible death threats. Simultaneously, they opened their mouths to say something, but immediately, Bear chose to cut in--a wise decision in his part. "Now isn't the time," he said with a slight frown, "_Annako_. Remember why we mailed Balmung in the first place...?"

Kite frowned slightly at the name and was about to make a cynical comment on it--at least, until BlackRose elbowed him sharply in the side. "Ow," he complained, glaring sideways at his female companion. 

Bear cleared his throat, ignoring his foster daughter's sardonic character. "Kite," he addressed the Twin Blade, subconsciously staring at his wrists as if expecting the bracelet to magically appear in his eyesight, "an AI called Morganna placed...my son...in a coma. He woke up recently and has no memories..."

"And he's calling her 'mother,'" Tsukasa piped in bitterly. "She's a voice in his damn head."

"...long story short, we think that if we were to help eliminate Morganna from the gaming environment, then Sora will be safe from harm and he may or may not regain his memories."

BlackRose scoffed. "Easier said then done, old man."

Tsukasa suddenly reached downward and scooped up Kite's hand, fingers articulately tracing an unseen barrier. "So this is the bracelet," he murmured, occasionally flicking it now and then. Eyes flickered towards what only Tsukasa could see; eyebrows quirked quizzically, but BlackRose took the more unimpressed approach, and Bear, the silent. "Right, whatever," the Wavemaster said quickly, dropping Kite's hand. "He's the one. So what do we do now?" he asked--pointedly at Bear.

Bear paused--apparently, he hadn't drawn up any brilliant plans beforehand. Then, he simply said: "We help them any way we can."

Tsukasa snorted. "How will _that_ help Sora?"

"Do you have any better ideas!?"

The Wavemaster didn't respond. Bear forced a smile, apparently not very happy but still maintaining a bit of his courtesy. "I'd like you to take our member addresses..." he said slowly. "Er...we'd like to hear about anything related to Morganna. We don't want to be a burden," he added quickly, tilting his sword so it leaned against his thigh and cracking his knuckles. Tsukasa knew his foster father well enough to know that was something Bear did only when he was...ah...suffering, from discomfiture. 

Kite blinked, and then frowned slightly, tucking his blades in a place unseen--one of the many disputable topics in The World. "I know your Sora," he said stiffly, eyeing Tsukasa and resurrecting his statement from memory. Bear brightened. "Crucified on Skeith's staff. I helped him, but...he wasn't who I was expecting." A downcast tone; Kite's eyes seemed drawn to the ground.

_Skeith. Morganna._ Tsukasa's head swiveled around for a moment.

^*^

Sora awoke with a jolt as he tumbled out of his bed, tangled in thick sheets and enveloped in perspiration. Beneath the warm quilts, he scrubbed his face with the blanket, and frowned, discarding the object upon noting how damp it became. He had a dream; no, a _nightmare_. Wrists and ankles and neck pinned to a red cross, the knifelike sides cutting into his skin; the more he struggled, the deeper the cuts became, and the harder to it he was fastened.

The staff was wielded like a Wavemaster would swing it about, and whereas some joints were firmly attached, the rest of his body remained limp; his spine felt the burden of gravity, and when the staff was held horizontally, his arms would ache and his back would crunch sporadically...

**It was only a dream, Sora.**

"I know, I know," he grunted in frustration, pushing himself off the ground. Not quite unconsciously, he rubbed at his wrists, where dents like thin lines lay askew.

He glanced at them, and held up his arm at eye level. He flopped back onto bed and pulled up his tattered pant leg--the same marks were there. Hell, they had gone through a visible cauterization process. With a mumbled swear and a slight crack from his thigh, he pulled his ankle to eye level.

"Is this a dream, too?" he whispered softly. "What is happening to me? And these scars...

"These aren't dreams," he confirmed, louder this time to ensure that his mother could hear. "What is happening to me?" he echoed.

**Nothing is happening to you,** she said strongly, a faint pricking sound in the back of his mind fortifying her statement. **You are fine; you always have been fine, and content with your life.**

"What life?" he ventured absently. "What is there beyond what you have told me?"

**There is nothingness.**

"I thought you would say that," Sora said quietly, trudging to the computer room from where he could hear the scattered voices of Ryo Sakuma and Annako. "You're becoming predictable, _mother,_" he murmured acidly, using the wall as a support for his somewhat frail body. _I cannot be used forever,_ he told her, mentally this time; his self-awareness was like beseeched moonlight, and he frantically grasped at it--it would only slip through his fingers, and then gradually return. It slipped again as his head drew backwards; a flash of pain announced itself in his mind. Mother's "warning tone". _Sorry...old lady._

He smiled to himself; a Cheshire cat smile. 


	12. There's No Place Like It

**A/N**: Next update here! Woo! Snagging in a bit of Kite/BlackRose. I currently have the ideas of several other fics cooking in my mind, so... Nonetheless, I hope this is a quality chapter for you all. If you have any particular comments or constructive criticism [yes, I know my chapters are short], I implore you to IM me.

I have taken a specific direction for this fanfic. There may not be a colossal battle--the entirety of The World versus Skeith?--but there will be _something_... Enjoy!

**Disclaimer**: Tasogare Ookami Konyo does not own .hack. ...Reki is mine. Mine I tell you.

Reki ;_; Help me.

^*^

**Chapter 11**: **There's No Place Like It**

_And no one knows what it's like  
To feel these feelings  
But I do  
And I blame you  
But my dreams, they aren't as empty  
As my conscious seems to be...  
_**Behind Blue Eyes** - Limp Bizkit [Or The Who, depending on how old you are.]

^*^

Sora toed silently, almost catlike, behind Tsukasa and glanced at the flat-screen monitor, upon which was stationed a rather zoomed-out view of the Root Town. At the bottom of the screen, words flickered in and out like clouds, appearing either very quickly or at a more steady pace, and Sora deducted that they were surely being spoken. A small pair of earphones sat abandoned at the center of the monitor, perhaps only large enough to fit snug in your ears and nothing more.

_Ah, and what is this?_

His mother said nothing, and Sora was not surprised; instead, he fumbled blindly for a slot in which to place the plug. Finding one, he clumsily pulled only one end to his ear and listened intently; his crimson eyes would occasionally glance at Ryo or Annako. They were very absorbed in this...whatever it was...

_Who's that?_ Detecting that the user's party had gathered relatively close together, the camera zoomed in on the small group huddled at the near outskirts of Carmina Gadelica. The boy studied each person closely, and with ease was able to discover that at least two of them represented the very people plopped down next to him. Sora utilized the wire's stretching capabilities, and moved farther away.

_A white-haired guy in a dress..._ Sora hummed to himself as he thought. _...Annako's eyes,_ he thought quickly upon seeing the violet hues. _And the other guy in a skirt with the finger paints on his face..._

He chuckled to himself. _Ah, mother, what is going on? I'd prefer if you spoke in something other then ellipses. _

**A game.**

He stopped chuckling abruptly as the game's camera pulled backwards once more; he extended one arm to tap the screen. _I've seen these places somewhere before._ Sensing that _she_ was ready to interrupt, he continued-- _Memories from dreams, right?_ he asked, the smarmy tone his mind's voice adapted raised to sarcastic levels. _Rings a bell._

_I recall you mentioned something about a brother, and with some hesitation, you gave me his name. Am I right?_ Sora asked calmly, crossing his legs and plopping on the ground behind Ryo and Annako's chairs. 

**Yes,** came the fearless reply.

_I can put two and two together. I think you slipped up._ Standing, he took off the earphones and proceeded to tap Annako on the shoulder; the girl tilted her head for a moment and mumbled something along the lines of "be right back" into a voice receptor before lifting the goggles from their perch on her nose and looking up at Sora. She blinked, and then smiled brightly. 

"Ah...Sora..." She made a particular effort to shield his eyes from the computer screen, but to no avail. "...Do you need anything?" she asked weakly.

"May I play?" Sora asked suddenly, trying a boyish, innocent tone; to compliment it, he folded his arms behind his head, strands of dark green with black streaks shading his left eye. "It looks like...fun." Annako blinked again, this time in unmistakable disbelief; she nodded slowly, turned, typed something rapidly into the computer, and then a small window popped up. She shifted out of her seat to allow her "brother" a spot, and he was all too happy to oblige, resting his weight on the soft black leather.

**Username**: _  
_**Password**:

"I can make you a character if you want," she said softly, hands clasped behind her back. A thought, like a large white light being turned on, occurred in Sora's mind. The boy smiled again. It was more wicked this time. He pulled the visor over his ears, and the microphone stationed itself above his mouth.

**There's no need. ...I know what to do.**

"There's no need." After some thought, Sora resumed his replay of what Mother had told him: "I know what to do." He closed his eyes for a moment, and allowed the presence in his mind to temporarily possess his fingers as he made a mental inquiry. 

**Username**: Sora_  
_**Password**: *******

**LOGIN CONFIRMED.**

The World's main menu switched on; a sword shifted into the left-hand view, the sketchy letters reading "Key of the Twilight". Sora did not question as to why his mother bristled as he read that. The real world faded to darkness, and in its place, intricate cathedrals and building stood in its place; specifically, the staircase at his feet when he entered The World. Annako's alarmed inquisitiveness drained from his consciousness; his hands no longer clutched the computer mouse, but instead remained limp at his sides.

He tousled his hair, specifically the dark strands that shaded some of his peripheral vision--dark green. 

He stared at a glass; blood-colored eyes stared back through the fabricated reflection.

He looked down; he was taller and lankier.

And lastly, he looked at his hands; thrusting them out ahead of him, he watched blades eject themselves from his wrists. 

He examined the katars; a low chuckle bubbled in his throat, and the voice modifier made it louder then usual. It erupted into a sinister, high-pitched and cold laugh, prompting players to halt due to the chills racing in their spine (or the fact they just considered him clinically insane). 

_It's good to be home._

^*^

In the recently rebooted Net Slum, the hacker named Helba appeared, clad in her aesthetic robes of white and black and gold. Her expression was shielded by the dark visor on her face as strange lines began to carve themselves in the air of _her_ Net Slum...

The lines began to glow faintly, taking the shape and form of a player killer often wailed about in elaborate death-tales on the UBB; the player killer who had mysteriously faded from the memory of those once-fearful newbies (now powerful players, no doubt)...

Perhaps the only uncomfortable gesture Helba would make in her life, she ran her tongue lightly on her lower lip.

This would be work...


	13. The Puppeteer

**Author's Notes**: Konyo is no longer of the undead variety! Yay! I realized I placed a bit of a burden on myself; hence the startling amount of deleted stories. Worry not, reviewers (whom I love so very dearly). They shall return with a vengeance! [Strikes a pose] Let's review, shall we? Considering the less-than-substantial length of most chapters, I decided to elongate this one, as I'm a tad disappointed in myself. ^_^

None other than Sora—who isn't just curious—has rudely booted Annako Sakuma, AKA Tsukasa, off the computer. Morganna is the hand that guides the strings of her brand-spanking-new marionette, but even She seems not to realize that she has manifested in the mind of the second coma victim to ever awaken. Helba knows more than she wants to admit… In this chapter, the story takes a temporary shift towards Kite and BlackRose.

Yes, I have dramatically altered the course of the game right up from Sora's release. [Sigh]

**Disclaimer**: Konyo does not own .hack or any of the concepts related to it. [Sniffle] It's an obsession.

^*^

**Chapter 12****: The Puppeteer**

_With one eye tied upon the open road,_

_I feel your presence and I can't let it go_

_It moves so slowly as it creeps into my mind…_

_Steals every breath I have, and leaves my heart behind_

**            Drinking For Eleven** **– Mad Caddies**

^*^

She flinches, a disembodied presence overlooking The World with Her multiple eyes. She is intangible. She is The World. Or some detached back-story of it. But something is missing, aside from a few of Her beloved Phases. (Her tools were being depleted posthaste. Of course She intended to do something about it, but…) She moves Her lipless mouth, and no sound emits. 

Something is wrong. Oh, so very wrong.

The first harbinger, that of death, was eliminated, and She knew. Morganna knew. She knew all there was to know. And so was its staff. The harbinger had awakened something, someone She had distinctly remembered toying with in the past.

She is omnipotence, so She has little trouble recalling him.

But She dismisses it, for there are far greater things to worry about. 

"Admit it, Kite. We don't know _shit_."

Kite pursed his lips in thought, legs crossed neatly in front of him. He sat; contemplating all there was to contemplate, on a hill bathed in rainbow foliage. His companion, ever with her effervescent wording—especially that vulgarity, he reminded himself to bother her about it later—sat with him, obviously disinterested in whatever answers could be withdrawn from the corridors of the Twin Blade's mind. Most of the time, the options her opinions presented often led him to unsatisfying conclusions, but sometimes it allowed he, with his tranquil attitude, to make the perfect choice. This was not one of those times.

"Hell, we barely knew Morganna's name until that guy in the skirt told us about it!"

"BlackRose," he interrupted, lightly annoyed but for the most part unfazed, "I'm trying to think." 

The aforementioned jutted her lower lip in a pout, and Kite had to bite back a smile. She was often so childish with her temperament; she plucked at a strand of grass, uprooting it. 

"So, you brought me here just to _think_," the Heavy Blade said Kite sighed.

"You and I are the only ones on my member address list, aside from Bear and Tsukasa, who have any idea what's going on." Upon witnessing that BlackRose was not impressed and instead nonplussed by his cryptic explanation, he arced the corners of his thin mouth in a smile. "And besides, having you around is better than sitting around here by myself."

"You could've thought just as well in a Root Town," BlackRose sniffed. "And—and Natsume is online. So is Sanjuro. Why didn't you invite them?" she asked miserably. There was some ulterior motive beneath her questioning. Kite delved into it.

"You're saying that you'd rather be anywhere else but here," the Twin Blade said emphatically.

Often, he found her to be predictable. And she _was_ a complex person, without a doubt, but her pretense bothered him; he carefully worded his inquiries, hoping to draw out an explanation. 

BlackRose chewed on her bottom lip, which was inexplicably but nonetheless lightly glossed. "Well…no…" she admitted begrudgingly, suddenly finding the ground rather fascinating. "But why _me?_" she challenged.

Ah. So she was hoping for a confrontation. Kite frowned, unwilling to oblige the unspoken request—that would require consulting what he felt, and he was usually a very sullen person.

"I don't know," he said at last.

Her shoulders sank slightly, and some part of him tumbled right along with her posture. It became blatantly obvious that he had said the wrong thing.

Suddenly, a shroud of rings alerted Kite to the presence of someone else. Which really was a drag, but there are only so many accommodating keyword combinations per server. He suddenly grabbed his companion's smaller, slender hand, and stood with a jolt, prompting her to as well. He was vaguely aware of the close contact—moreso than vaguely, as he flushed as he did so, but always on the alert, the Twin Blade glowered down at the player. (He sought solitude, perhaps with BlackRose.)

Dark green hair threaded out from the veil of a black bandana, the clump of strands draping over his thin face. Neither bandana nor painfully long bangs shielded a blood-tainted gaze, darting about as an insect alerts itself to food; the gears on his wrists alerted Kite to his class—another Twin Blade.

It took some squinting at first to see. But once Kite saw it, it didn't take him a second to recall the ghastly face from memory.

After all, Sora the Player Killer was a difficult person to forget.

As soon as he materialized, he began bounding around as one bounces on a trampoline. BlackRose blinked, subconscious grip on Kite's gloved hand tightening as she scrutinized the bouncy Twin Blade, with his obscenely large pants and the belts crisscrossing on his shirt. She adamantly watched him for a moment, before a strange sort of intimidation crept into her heart.

"He's coming towards us, you know," she said quietly.

She didn't want to run. After all, why run from something as happy as a clam? She didn't see the potential threat. But…there was something very wrong. His presence was encroaching as shadow chases light on the event of an eclipse…

"It's Sora," Kite said in a hushed tone, stepping backwards. 

The .hacker only concluded that his intentions were not the best as, on yet another twittering leap, the katars ejected from his wrists and Sora landed less than four meters away from them.

Sora ground to a halt. And, just as soon as he had begun to dance around like some sort of madman, he began to walk ever so collectedly towards the duo, a bright smile plastered on his expression. His eyes betrayed most of it, and BlackRose felt her breath catch in her throat for a moment. They were red, yes—brighter than hers. They betrayed many things—a swirling maelstrom of something that could only be described as madness. She was dully aware of Kite stepping backwards, pulling her right along.

_*shink*_

A giggle.

Kite felt the hand he had formerly held with some amount of concealed tenderness slip.

Kite was fast, taking into account his level and class. In his spare time, he worked on building his character—after all, he never knew what would come next. Sora was faster.

Normally, a player death was never a big deal. A Resurrect was usually administered in such cases, and if the player were left to wander as a ghost for more than about 10 minutes, they'd eventually get the customary Game Over screen and be allowed to reload their character data from its status when they last saved. There was no ghost this time around. 

Sora nonchalantly twiddled a tarot card in his fingers, as BlackRose, HP left at a single digit—6—sank haphazardly to the ground, unable to control the encroaching weakness and cold. It happened far too fast for Kite to follow—one second, BlackRose was there, ready to leave, and the next, she was on the ground, her character far too sluggish to follow.

He had left her an inch from death.

"No…!"

A single cell, a hexagon comprised of a neon color, flickered on Sora's forehead.

Sora remained there, nonchalant and calloused whilst still nimbly twirling the card. Kite swallowed the short-lived scream that ruptured his throat in the past second and a half, and, almost instantaneously forgetting about Sora, felt the strength leave his knees. A Health Drink materialized in his hand, and he scooted behind her, wrapping an arm around her torso and tilting her backwards to warily tip the liquid into her faintly parted lips.

It's not working—why isn't it working—why can't she stand—what's going on— 

Her HP gauge remained in the red.

"You know," the sinister Twin Blade drawled lazily, casting a discontent eye at the card in his fingers, "I never liked using these. Such a waste of time and effort…and it makes people look like idiots…"

BlackRose coughed and spluttered out the Health Drink, her HP remaining pitifully below 10 even as she downed most of it. 

Kite sank his head into the space between her neck and shoulder, his normally even control over his attitude slipping. He had done _something_. She was immobile, and Sora had yet to exploit any of his status-changing items; she was limp, aside from her facial expression, crossed with fury and also the same dazed look people often got when they were losing consciousness.

"What…the _hell_…have you done?"

Sora glanced down at him and flinched—something he had not done in a while. And for a moment, something akin to pity flicked in his eyes. Ignoring it, his foot suddenly slammed into Kite's side; the boot sank into Kite's flank, before the impact prompted Kite to be sent hurtling a generous distance away.

"Kite," BlackRose suddenly choked out. Her blade, large and cumbersome, appeared in her hand, but her wrists simply refused to budge.

He disregarded her despair, but, alarmed, his eyes shifted to some invisible foe over his shoulder. And, just then, Sora's character began to flicker and fade. 

He vanished for reasons known only outside of the game. Kite nursed the rip in his side, both of clothing and of skin, before dismissing the loss of HP and scrambling to BlackRose.

Before he could reach her, she left the area, and Kite's member address list alerted him to the fact that she had logged out.

Something was very wrong.

Ryo had been oblivious to the situation, blissfully, until a quick yell resounded throughout—no, not the town. His house. Cautiously, he logged out and lifted the goggles from his face, only to find a very strange scene.

Annako was loudly reprimanding an impartial Sora plopped in the chair beside him. He stared, puzzled for a moment, before finally asking, "What's going on?"

Annako whirled on him, disdain and hardly contained anger flitting across her usually cherubic expression. "The minute he logs in, he kills someone!" she half-screamed, flinging her arms in the air. 

"…He logged in?"

A glare the shade of amethyst.

"Sorry," Ryo responded sheepishly before maneuvering to the detached boy in a chair, whose eyes seemed fixated on the ceiling. "Is this true?" he asked, more sternly this time, his fatherly side taking over. Sora snorted derisively and rolled his eyes before nodding his head, apparently unafraid of the consequences and what horrible fate could befall him. 

Ryo swallowed, before Annako grabbed his arm and led him to a slightly more obscure corner of the room. Her eyes glinted, displaying something other then her irritation—fear. "Do you know who he logged in as?" she whispered, almost deathly quiet.

"No. I didn't know he had even logged in," Ryo admitted truthfully.

"He logged in as _Sora_—his old character. He hasn't forgotten," she murmured frantically, suddenly looking very small and insecure as she hugged herself. "Something's wrong, papa. There's something he isn't telling us."

Ryo grimaced, and then smiled, though it was dismal, his entire usual upbeat attitude gone. "What else is new?" 

Soundlessly, they watched Sora stand, his stare lingering on the headset that had been torn from his face by Annako, before wordlessly walking to his room.

Annako hated feeling helpless—it was a trait left over from her reclusive attitude as Tsukasa, in which she knew nothing about her situation and didn't care. Tsukasa hadn't _had_ a care in the world, as long as he had his Guardian, and his Aura.

She shivered and rubbed one of her tiny hands along the length of her arm, giving Ryo one last look before heading after Sora.

She was afraid, she realized. Of little Sora, seemingly oblivious, dancing on the thin line separating reality from illusion whilst remaining perfectly synchronized with the world around him.

And maybe it was a little strange, but oftentimes, Annako found herself wondering if his request still stood, even after all these months.

Maybe back then, she didn't understand. 

But right now, being friends with Sora was a better option then testing fate again.


	14. Actions and Consequences

**Author's Notes**: Hello, hello! Oh my god, it's the almighty Goldberry! Time for some hero-worship. [Worship] And yeah, to answer KaitaKembi's questions… 

To use HTML formatting (bold, italics, double paragraph spacing, and all those cheap effects I use to make this story look prettier than it actually is), you open Microsoft Word. Then make a new file—a Web Page file, which should be the icon next to the Blank Document picture thingy. When you save it, with bold and italic effects and all those things you like, be sure to tack a ".html" after the file name, so FanFiction.net will accept it. Have fun! (Kite and BlackRose are from the .hack games series. Love them! Worship them! They are your idols!)

The little dividers last chapter didn't show up. [Grumbles and mumbles about Microsoft Word] I'll fix it later. Much, much later.

**Disclaimer**: No .hack…

**Chapter 13****: Actions and Consequences**

Heaven's not enough 

_If when you get there…_

_Just another blue_

_And heaven's not enough_

_You think you've found it,_

And it loses you 

Heaven's Not Enough – Steve Conte

"If I had known he would do something like that, Bear," Kite hissed through gritted teeth, obviously thinking the Blademaster had misjudged his ward, "I would've actually thought twice about helping him out of that staff."

The Blademaster grimaced—not out of apprehension about the way he was confronted for Sora's behavior, but rather the fact that Sora was still capable of virtual homicide. He regained his mature composure and stared down at him. "I truly am sorry for what he did to your partner," he began, "and I hope she's alright. Again, I'm sorry. Tsukasa and I will ensure that it won't happen again." He was a compassionate, fatherly man at heart, and so he was surprised to discover that he didn't care much for BlackRose's dilemma. "But I have other questions that I need answered at the moment."

"Such as why he targeted BlackRose in the first place?"

They blinked, and turned, gazes meeting that of the teal-and-green-and-blue-clad Wavemaster, with the crown cradling her hair glinting in the Carmina Gadelica moonlight. (The Cultural City, in its perpetual night, was famed for, six months ago, having a certain Player Killer ascertain his presence through death after death. That was before killing was prohibited in Root Towns.)

BT wasn't smiling that funny little smile of hers—her usual snide fashion when she expected a price for information. There was a sort of forlorn air then, like a thick obscuring puff of miasma or fog. Kite's intuition would be correct when he assumed something was wrong.

"I'd like to know," he managed, folding his arms, fingers clutching at the white fabric. "Maybe he knows she's with me."

Bear spared him a bemused glance and a lifted eyebrow. 

"Maybe," BT deadpanned, tapping the pointed end of her staff against the hand-laid stone grounds. "Bear, you know Mimiru, correct?" she asked, on a different note entirely. The blue-faced Blademaster blinked a few times, and then nodded, shifting his weight onto his other foot. 

"She met up with Tsukasa in real life, a month ago."

"Her character design is remarkably like BlackRose's, wouldn't you say?" she queried further, turning around rather deliberately slowly. Knowing BT, she would prolong suspense simply for personal gain or thrill. "What if Sora recognizes Mimiru's character design?"

The older man frowned slightly. "A far-fetched theory. Mimiru has a standard-issue Heavy Blade character." He paused. "Even so, why would he hunt for people who look like Mimiru? Why her?"

"There are several possibilities." The staff in her hand evaporated in a mass of colorful data, before she began ticking things off on her fingers (the nails of which were fairly long). "She's Tsukasa's best friend. On various occasions before he fell into a coma, Mimiru connected with him as more of a person than a killer, through petty arguments or pleasant conversation—moreso than any of _you._"

"You shouldn't talk, BT," Bear retorted with a half-smile.

"All I'm saying," she interrupted, casting a glare at him, eyes shooting proverbial daggers at his face, "is that you should keep your eyes open. It wouldn't hurt to keep an eye on Mimiru, either." 

He sighed, defeated by stress. His shoulders sank faintly, and his eyes glued themselves to the floor. "Alright, I'll take your word for it. But I don't think it would hurt to remember that even if Sora's targeting Mimiru, she's not the only one in danger here."

BT blinked, alerted by Kite's presence, emanating withdrawn fury. She looked down at him, scrutinizing him with foreign sympathy. She was a graceful sort, carrying herself with all the air of a calm but dominating hacker—similar, in many aspects, to Helba, though lacking the capabilities to acquire inside information at the press of a button. "Your partner. Has she logged in yet?"

"No," he mumbled, tilting his chin up slightly. "Maybe it's better that way… Her character wasn't in the best shape when she logged off… I think I'll e-mail her." The Twin Blade brightened at the prospect of contacting BlackRose, and turned, presumably to write the aforementioned e-mail. He froze suddenly, gloved finger hovering above an invisible spot, before facing the Wavemaster and the Blademaster. "Sora," Kite began, something unrecognizable flickering in the depths of his stormy eyes, "might have been infected."

They were enraptured immediately.

"But," he continued, fingers drifting furiously over an invisible keyboard, "he wasn't…covered in the infected cells, like monsters. He only had one." He hesitated, eyes wandering over text unseen before giving a final nod, letting his arms fall limply to his sides. "It was right here." He prodded the center of his own forehead, brushing aside sea-colored bangs and indicating the space above and between his eyebrows. 

"The temple," she noted, adjusting the crown on her own forehead. "It's probably some indication as to Morganna's invasion of his mind." Bear's head shot up instantly. 

"If Sora's able to log in, and if Morganna finds her old marionette…"

"She will inevitably discover the result of placing people in comas."

"And take advantage of it."

Bear, BT, and Kite had spoken in tandem as apparitions of the consequences danced in their minds. Ten million users, comatose at their terminals. Ten million users without memories. Morganna was an AI, and thus could not quest beyond the virtual reaches of The World. But there were ways—especially if she learned to utilize the knowledge of her pawns. 

She turned to Bear, the folds of her robe dancing feathery-light near her boots. "I think," she said coolly, though something akin to fear and anticipation gleamed in her catlike eyes, "it would be best that Sora does not touch The World for a while." In spite of her passive demeanor, it seemed that any imagined outcome had only recently begun to faze her, and with a last troubled glance at the Cultural City's midnight sky, she disappeared in a vertical train of gold rings.

---

Annako shut the door and tiptoed into Sora's room, tentatively entering his white-walled prison to which he was sentenced whenever he had a fleeting glimpse of insanity and acted on it. She was a good person in spite of it all, and she mentally confirmed that Sora was as well—not "evil" or any of that per se (no thanks to Morganna), but simply…misguided. A misguided innocent. 

"Sora? I'm sorry for yelling at you," she rushed. She found herself submissive these days, as opposed to Tsukasa's originally withdrawn and holier-than-thou attitude that always seemed to get the better of her in The World. "I…"

Sora glared. His eyes were the type that always seemed to see right through you; ulterior motives were as plain as day. Upon judging that she had none, he still shunned her, averting his gaze. His knees were drawn to his chest, though a simple white sheet blanketed the former. His arms rested on his knees—not around, but on, and the forearms of which cradled and half-sheltered his chin and mouth.

"Are you okay?" Annako asked suspiciously. "If there's something wrong…you can tell me, you know."

Concern, and extending the hand of friendship. She'd learned it from Subaru.

"Information's costly," Sora responded blandly, locking eyes with her again. Annako blanched, maintaining eye contact for about four seconds before letting out a secret sigh and looking away. 

"What do you mean, 'information'?" she said, bewildered. She did not consider the sharing of feelings a thing worth paying for—that is to say, she expected such an intangible and almost insignificant thing to benefit him more than her. 

The lanky boy twisted and then planted his feet on the floor, before pulling himself up into a standing position. The only way she could describe his motions was "trudging"—he seemed dragged by some unearthly force. "Many things are wrong," he mused poetically, only arm's length away from the mundane, colorless walls. "Anything is possible—someone always has the proper information, but to extract it from them, you have to know how to make a bargain."

"Err…you're misjudging me." Annako felt very small all of a sudden, hands clasped behind her back and toe nudging the carpeting. "I only want—"

"The fine line between genius and insanity…ah…I wonder when I erased it…?"

"Sora, what're you—"

"Who was she?"

Annako did her very best to recollect the name of Kite's companion and friend. (Perhaps they were more than that, but she hadn't the time to properly acquaint herself with them.) "Er…BlackRose, I think. Not sure."

"Whom is she working with?"

"The Twin Blade, Kite. The bearer of the Bracelet—"

"And who are they working against?"

Annako froze in place, suddenly finding herself unable to breathe or think. 

His eyes slid languidly to her rigid expression. "What did they see?"

"Huh?"

"Does a pawn move when there is no hand to guide it?" Sora paused, running a hand through forest-green hair. And he turned to stare at her, crimson eyes flickering coldly. "Do puppets dance without strings? Implausible. _Impossible._ I think the correct metaphor is…

"Reading between the lines.

"If 'Kite' is too much of an imbecile to realize that what he saw was not what he thought he saw…

"Well…just wait. Patience is a virtue, after all."

And with that, he said no more, edging even farther into the corner of the room so as to seclude himself. Annako nudged him for more information through baffled inquiries and lamentations of danger and possibly his own salvation… But, with one last withering stare, it became clear to her that the conversation was over.  


End file.
